


time to give that whip a crack

by cupcakeb



Series: teach me (how to say goodbye) [1]
Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, THIS IS AU - no incest, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism, trading one taboo for a somewhat more acceptable taboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakeb/pseuds/cupcakeb
Summary: It’s totally a rite of passage for anyone attending an all-girls boarding school — crushing on the hot, young, single teacher. He's never paid it any mind before; not until now, anyway.He walks into third-period biology, ready to teach these seniors that biology isn’t just about the mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell, and nearly loses his cool when he sees this ridiculously hot brunette sitting in the front row. She’s definitely new. He's definitely fucked.
Relationships: Lucrecia "Lu" Montesinos Hendrich/Valerio Montesinos Hendrich
Series: teach me (how to say goodbye) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095644
Comments: 121
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obvious warning before you read this: things will get explicit in later chapters.

If he was a better person, none of this would be happening. 

Valerio has never been very good at not being bad, though. 

Honestly, out of everyone, he’s probably the most surprised that at 27, he’s finishing his teacher training at some fancy all-girls private boarding school in a Madrid suburb, even though he spent his youth fucked up on coke or far worse drugs. Getting serious about things was sort of meant to be his way of proving to his parents that he could be, but then he realized he actually liked doing well at ordinary things and just sort of stuck with it.  
  
Nepotism helped a little with getting the gig, but whatever.  
  
So yeah, he hasn’t actually touched drugs in years, and he doesn’t particularly enjoy parties anymore. His friends like to joke and say he used up all his partying energy as a teen and now has none left; he knows the real reason he tries not to go to them is his addictive personality. Hand him a drink and he’ll have ten. Wave a bag of coke in front of his face and… Well.  
  
If you put him in the right situation, impulsiveness is guaranteed.  
  
That’s why, in hindsight, all of this could have been prevented. If the temptation hadn’t made him do it. If the school uniform skirts weren’t so short, maybe.  
  
He knows he’s got a certain reputation around Las Encinas, alright? He’s fairly young and conventionally attractive, so naturally the student population thinks he’s somehow the most likely teacher to actually fulfill all of the messed up fantasies they picked up from watching bad porn.  
  
It’s totally a rite of passage for anyone attending an all-girls boarding school — crushing on the hot, young, single teacher. Last year one of the freshmen wrote him a love letter and it was a really awkward encounter he doesn’t really want to repeat. It’s obviously flattering, but he’s also not gonna pretend like he’d ever be interested in a fourteen-year-old like that; that’s too fucked up, even for him.  


There’s a reason why he tries not to play up the whole cool teacher thing, even though he knows that’s what the girls think of him as. (He overheard some of them referring to him as Mr. Sixpack last June, and hasn’t worn a tight-fitting shirt to class since.) He teaches PE and biology, mainly because he really likes working out and they made him pick a second subject that’s actually vaguely academic in university, and he likes to think he makes class fun for the kids. But boundaries are important. Boundaries are important because Valerio doesn’t trust himself one bit with temptation — he knows from experience that he shouldn’t.  
  
The very deliberately built up walls between him and the student population start to crumble on the first day of class in his second year of teaching. He walks into third-period biology, ready to teach these seniors that biology isn’t just about the mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell, and nearly loses his cool when he sees this ridiculously hot brunette sitting in the front row. She’s definitely new. He would’ve remembered those huge… eyes. He would’ve remembered those smoldering, brown eyes, currently checking him out. He obviously wasn’t looking at her chest at all.  
  
She’s distracting, but he snaps out of it, goes through his whole introductory spiel and knows he instantly wins them all over when he doesn’t assign any reading or homework on the first day. Other teachers at the school aren’t this lenient; it’s pretty much always crunch time at Las Encinas. He teaches biology, though; he’s not gonna be one of those shitty teachers who pretend their random elective is the most important class anyone will ever take.  
  
When the bell rings, the hot brunette (ugh, he’s such a creep) lingers behind, then comes up to his desk to talk to him.  
  
“Val,” she says to get his attention. He sort of winces at the nickname; his ex-girlfriend used to call him that. All the students and teachers at Las Encinas are on a first-name basis with each other, but this is a little too intimate.  
  
“It’s Valerio,” he corrects. Something about the look on her face tells him she knew that. “How can I help you, Lucrecia?”  
  
Her name is a little ridiculous, but this is private school — he’s heard worse.  
  
“Call me Lu,” she says, then sort of sits down on his desk and crosses her ankles, which does great things for her legs. They’re tan and toned and even though she can’t be much taller than 5’2, or maybe 5’3, her legs seem long.  
  
Hindsight’s 20/20, so of course he’ll later think if he’d just been a little bit more firm with her in that first encounter, none of this would’ve happened. Did he mention he’s impulsive and fucking shitty with temptation? Because he is.  
  
Lu catches him staring at her legs and just smirks at him when their eyes meet. When he gives her a prompting look, she clutches her biology book to her chest and looks away. “I just transferred here and I was wondering if there are any materials from last year that could help me get up to speed.”  
  
He laughs, because of course she’s type A. The headband holding her hair back is too color-coordinated with her uniform blazer for her not to be. “I assume you’ve taken a biology class before,” he says, and it comes out a little flirty. His usual teacher voice is failing him.  


“Sure,” she agrees. “But the curriculum was different. Catholic school — they didn’t exactly believe in teaching anything but creationism.”  
  
Catholic school? There’s a really dirty joke at the tip of his tongue that he just barely manages to hold back. He still decides to pry a little. “What’d you do to get kicked out of catholic school?”  
  
Lu purses her lips, then leans down a little towards where he’s sitting in his chair. It makes her tits look really, really good, but he’s not allowed to look, so he doesn’t. Not for long anyway. “I’m afraid that sort of information wouldn’t be appropriate for me to share with a virtual stranger,” she alludes, and he stifles a moan. There’s definitely a story there. He shouldn't want to find out.  
  
“I’ll email you some reading material,” he says, mainly to get her out of here already before he does something stupid like tell her they don’t have to be strangers. This isn't a fucking dive bar, he reminds himself, it's a classroom. He can't be picking up any hot girl willing to flash him some cleavage.   
  
That seems to be good enough for her, because she smiles at him, nods and gets up, her skirt swishing as she walks towards the door. He’s pretty sure he sees a flash of pink panty, but maybe he’s just daydreaming.  
  
“Hey, Lu,” he calls after her, and she turns around with a barely-there smile on her face. She seems like a handful. He thinks he’d enjoy handling her. “Close the door behind you.”  
  
“Of course,” her kitten heels thud on the granite floors. “Thanks, Val.”  
  
She definitely did that on purpose just now. When the door closes behind her, he lets out a deep breath and tries hard to ignore the way he’d like to be touching himself right now.  
  
He doesn’t know what she’s trying to do here and he really doesn’t know why it feels like she might be succeeding.  
  
//  
  
The next time he sees Lu, she’s chatting with Carla in the back of his classroom when he walks in for class, and he rolls his eyes a little at how predictable that is. What a match.  
  
Last year, Carla tried to get him to notice her. It was an admirable effort, too. Luckily he isn’t into blondes, no matter how luscious their lips or tits might be. Of course he was tempted, but he wasn’t interested enough to jeopardize his entire career to take her up on her offer for them to — quote — “get to know each other better”. (Such a bad line. Definitely something she picked up from porn.)  
  
That, and she was sixteen at the time. He’s too pretty for jail.  
  
See? He’s not a total creep.  
  
He’s wondering what they’re whispering about. He’s slightly disappointed to see Lu sitting in the back row — he kind of liked having her closer to him.  
  
It’s probably for the best, though.  
  
The class passes without incident. Honestly, after teaching at a fancy private school like this, where all of his students are prepared to give their studies their all, he’s pretty sure he’d go insane at a rowdy public school. Every single girl in the room is diligently taking notes, and they were all raised to be inquisitory and ask good questions to further class discussion. It’s every teacher’s dream.  
  
Since it’s their final year, the administration is forcing him to add essay writing to his grading criteria — kind of pointless in biology, but that’s not up to him to decide, so he just finds a few hotly debated topics in science and sends the students on their way.  
  
“If you have any questions about the essay prompts or need guidance, you are of course welcome to come see me during office hours.”  
  
He meets Lu’s eyes by complete accident. He swears this isn’t just some ploy to get her to come see him after school.  
  
Of course she knocks on his office door at 3 pm on the dot, smiling at him when she sets her binder down on his desk and sits down across from him. She must’ve unbuttoned her blouse a little, because there’s no way she wouldn’t have been given a warning if another teacher saw her walking the school halls like this during the day.  
  
If she wasn’t his — presumably — underage student, he’d definitely make a joke about how she’s come a long way since catholic school. But she is and he won’t because he’s better than this. He’s not gonna let temptation win out. Creepy thoughts are fine; he’s not gonna act on them.  
  
No matter how enticing her cleavage might look.  
  
She’s prepared a whole list of questions. She’s dedicated and intelligent, he’ll give her that. Once she warms up to him, she strays from her script of questions and they have a genuine, inspired conversation about intrasexual selection. Which is the topic of her essay, and not actually sexual at all, alright? Give him a break.  
  
After what feels like an eternity, she closes her binder and hesitates. “You have an accent,” she says, grinning at him.  
  
Ah yes, he’s heard that line before. “My parents are Chilean, even fifteen years in Spain haven’t been able to beat the accent out of me.”  
  
She’s totally trying to find out how old he is when she asks, “How old were you when you moved?”  
  
“Thirteen.”  
  
“So you’re 28.”  
  
“27,” he clarifies, and he doesn’t know why he bothers to do it at all. “What about you?”  
  
“I’ll be eighteen in October,” which is a smart way to avoid saying that she isn’t eighteen yet. Clever girl, but that wasn’t what he was asking.  
  
“No. Your accent,” he smirks a little when she blushes, like he’s caught her off-guard. It’s cute. Cute enough, he forgets to care about the fact that he shouldn’t be smirking at any of his students.  
  
“My dad’s the Mexican ambassador to Spain,” is all she says and shit, that’s intense. That makes her dad influential and powerful and likely very intimidating towards any boy ( _man_ ) who might touch his daughter. Smart of him to send her to an all-girls boarding school.  
  
He smiles. “Well, that makes us kindred spirits.”  
  
The look she gives him is brazen. He really, really hopes he’s reading into it. She can’t seriously be making fuck-me eyes at her biology teacher during office hours. Her getting kicked out of catholic school makes a lot more sense now.  
  
But fuck it, he’ll indulge her. He’s not gonna be the first to look away. That would make her think she’s got some kind of power over him, and he definitely can’t afford to let her feel like that. He's the teacher here. He should hold all the power.  
  
It’s definitely not just the school girl get up that has his pants feeling uncomfortably tight. She’s intriguing in her own right; he’s pretty sure she’d be really fun to fight with. He’s always been a big advocate for bickering and play fights that turn into real fights, which in turn can only be resolved using every seduction technique in the book.  
  
He has no idea why he’s thinking about any of that right now. They’re still just looking at each other and he watches her tongue closely when she licks her lips a little.  
  
There’s a knock on his office door, and that finally makes her look away from him. Thank god. He was seconds away from doing something really, really stupid.  
  
“Just a minute,” he says loud enough for whoever is at the door to hear, then smiles at Lu. “If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”  
  
He doesn’t specify that he means questions about the essay. It’s implied. Her smirk says otherwise.  
  
Maybe it would be best if he stopped underestimating her. “Apartment 2B, right?” She smirks, then reaches out and brushes his hand with hers. It shouldn’t be turning him on this much to know she’s been snooping around to figure out which on-campus apartment is his. He doesn’t know why he nods at all. It’s probably because he’s busy wondering how the fuck that little innocent brush of her hand made him want to bend her over this very desk and fuck her senseless.  
  
“Thanks, Val,” she says, then simply walks out.  
  
This time he’s sure he didn’t imagine the way her skirt flipped up. He’s just hoping he imagined the brief flash of her uncovered ass, because otherwise he’ll be thinking about _that_ for a very long time.  
  
She’s playing with fire. Maybe she needs to be taught a lesson.  
  
//  
  
Thankfully, Lu doesn’t actually show up at his apartment. He has no idea what he would’ve done if she did. (That’s a lie. He’s got a few ideas, actually.)  
  
She storms into his office a week later, looks sort of miffed, and he has no idea why she’s here.  
  
“Did you know,” she starts, shrugging off her school blazer to reveal a sleeveless white blouse. “That corporal punishment is still technically allowed according to the school bylaws? I was reading the student handbook today.”  
  
He didn’t know that. Now that he does, it’s hard _not_ to think about it. Lu hasn’t mentioned whether she thinks the rule is a good or a bad thing, but that doesn’t stop him from picturing how he could just throw her over his lap and spank her if he blamed it on her lackluster class performance.  
  
This time, Lu doesn’t sit down but paces around his desk instead, just taking these short, deliberate steps. It’s kind of annoying, so he wheels his desk chair back and grabs her wrist to get her to stop.  
  
“I highly doubt you’d ever get into any trouble that’s worth a spanking,” he says, all fake concerned, and she rolls her eyes at his sarcasm. For some reason, he decides flirting with her is a good idea. “Is that what you came here for? I left my rod at home today, so I’m afraid I can’t help.”  
  
Lu groans, then pulls her wrist away from him roughly. “Like I’d ever want that.”  
  
He raises an eyebrow at her and leers a little. She’s totally asking for that kind of reaction. She literally came in here and started talking about how he’s allowed to spank her, basically.  
  
“I want to run for student body president,” she says. “This is part of my research. I think I’ll put removal of the bylaw on my agenda.”  
  
Her level of cunning ambition is kind of terrifying. It’s insane how she’s been here less than three weeks, but has already established herself as one of the most popular girls in her class and garnered a reputation as a star student among teachers. He’s heard a ton of praise for her fall from his colleague’s lips over the past few days; she even got a shoutout in their weekly teacher’s conference. She seems so hyper-focused at all times, like she’s never _not_ gotten what she wanted before, so he’s sure she’ll win this, too.  
  
It makes him worry about his chances if she ever decided to pursue him. Which, shit, what if this is her way of doing just that? He feels a little powerless to stop it.  
  
“Will you endorse me if I run?”  
  
He laughs out loud at the pleading look on her face.  
  
“I’m your teacher, Lu,” he says, because he thinks she might need the reminder. “This isn’t a presidential election. I have to stay impartial, and besides, my endorsement would mean nothing.”  
  
She actually huffs at that. “But all the girls love you. If they thought you liked me, that would guarantee me the win.”  
  
He has a little sister, so he knows when girls are fishing for compliments. And Lu looks cute when she pouts — cute enough for him to play along. “This has nothing to do with whether I like you.”  
  
She takes a step over to his desk and sits down in the middle of it, right in front of him, her legs slightly parted. He wills himself to keep his eyes on her face because he doesn’t want to know what color underwear she is (or _isn’t_ ) wearing.  
  
“But you do,” she says coyly, reaching up to twist her hair into a messy bun. Why does that make him want to push her to her knees and grab her hair roughly while she puts her mouth to better use? Fuck. Her lips are so fucking pretty. They’d look so good wrapped around his cock. She seems to notice he’s zoned out, because she’s just staring at him with this mischievous grin on her lips when he snaps out of it. “You do like me.”  
  
That’s dangerous territory to cross into. They both know that. Answering truthfully could get him into so much shit. He’s never been a very good liar, so he changes the subject instead.  
  
“You’d make a great student body president.”  
  
She looks a little annoyed with that answer, if the way the corner of her mouth contorts is anything to go by.  
  
“Ugh,” she sighs, then kicks one of her legs out to put her foot on the seat of his chair between his legs and push him away. What the fuck? His chair hits the cabinet behind him. “You’re useless."  
  
He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he chuckles. “You’re welcome?”  
  
“I’ll need five minutes of class time to announce I’m running,” she says, a sweet grin on her lips again.  
  
“Anytime,” he nods, and he means it but he’s also just really confused.  
  
Lu smirks, then reaches forward and grabs his chin for a second, and before he can say anything about that, she’s taken off again, a quick, “Bye, Val,” falling from her lips.  
  
Did he just get played? He’s pretty sure he just got played.  
  
//  
  
He wakes up covered in sweat that night, and when he checks his phone and realizes it’s four in the morning, he decides to go for a run to get rid of all the impure thoughts threatening to drive him fucking crazy. He hastily jumps out of bed, slips on his running gear and doesn’t stop or slow down until he’s so exhausted he might puke.  
  
At home, he takes a quick cold shower. He doesn’t trust himself to be naked in there for a second longer than strictly necessary, because he knows exactly how that will end.  
  
There’s no way he’s gonna touch himself while thinking of a student. No fucking way.  
  
It doesn’t matter how many dreams he has about her. He’s not gonna do that.  
  
In class, he’s distracted, but he still lets Lu have her moment of fame to talk about her plans for the student council. He’s not really listening until he hears his name when she says, “And thank you to Valerio, for your vote of confidence,” like he didn’t tell her yesterday that he can’t choose sides. She’s looking directly at him as she says it, and he just laughs a little, shaking his head at her.  
  
This girl is fucking dangerous.  
  
He really needs to do something about this sexual frustration bubbling up inside him. That’s the reason he asks the new art teacher to come over for a drink tonight when he runs into her in the teacher’s lounge. Cayetana is nice, and he knows she’s into him because she keeps finding more and more ridiculous excuses to talk to him.  
  
It’s not like he can just go pick up a random woman at a bar in this tiny little ghost town. Slim pickings.  
  
They end up on his living room couch with a bottle of wine, talking about work because they have literally nothing else in common. It’s sad that it’s come to this. He knows he’s truly and seriously fucked when he finds himself thinking that he and Lu would have a lot more to talk about.  
  
“That brunette, Lucrecia? She’s a troublemaker,” Cayetana says, a smile playing on her lips.  
  
He has a lot to say about that, but decides not to bother. Instead, he nods, then takes the glass of wine from her and puts it down on the coffee table.  
  
“Let’s just stop talking about work for a minute,” he gives her the most charming look he can muster, which probably isn’t charming at all, but whatever. He’s not gonna try very hard. This is a good time to get by on his good looks alone.  
  
The kiss isn’t gentle at all. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling Cayetana into his lap immediately instead, then going for the buttons on her blouse. When they’re both naked, she gets a little shy on him, and honestly, if he wasn’t kind of desperate, he’d tell her this was a bad idea and send her home.  
  
He doesn’t really like blondes, and she’s timid and clearly uncomfortable with her sexuality, which is almost enough to make him lose interest. He prefers women who know want they want and will stop at nothing to take it from him.  
  
When he finally gets her to loosen up enough to fuck her, she moans all loud and fake and he clasps a hand over her mouth. He hopes she’s fine with that. There’s no way he can keep fucking her otherwise.  
  
Usually he wouldn’t consider himself a selfish lover. But this time he can’t help it; he thrusts into her in hard, punishing bursts, grinning when he feels her body respond to him. Good. At least she seems to like it.  
  
It’s easier to use her like this when he knows she’s getting something out of it, too.  
  
When he finally comes, it’s Lu’s face he thinks of, her dark hair he imagines pulling on. The blonde he’s currently inside of cries out, then clenches around him and he’s glad she came, too — he wasn’t even really thinking about that.  
  
Cayetana cuddles up to him all smiley and cute, and he makes up an excuse about having papers to grade to get her to leave not much later.  
  
He’s not sure trying to fuck Lu out of his system worked at all.  
  
When he’s laying awake later that night, restless and half-hard thinking about her, he can kind of feel his resolve faltering.  
  
//  
  
Lu joins the open track team tryouts he's hosting, and he literally has to force himself to look away when she walks up to him in her little running ensemble — these criminally tiny Nike shorts and nothing but a skimpy sports bra. Her body is tight in all the right places, and he’s absolutely dying to touch her. When does she even have time to work out in between all her extracurriculars, all the studying she must be doing and the hours of scheming she no doubt requires to keep her position as ring leader of her little girl gang?  


It’s honestly kind of impressive.  
  
“I didn’t know you were into running,” he jokes, and she smirks.  
  
Her answer is quick. “Morning jogs are the secret to my success.”  
  
He nods at her, signaling his approval. He loves running in the morning too. Then, he calls the rest of the kids over for warmup. Sports are mostly co-ed at Las Encinas, a collaboration with the nearby all-boys school. He doesn’t love the way all these teenage boys are ogling Lu.   
  
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he tells the group after some stretches and has them get ready for sprints.  
  
Lu beats all of the girls, and all but three of the boys in the 100-meter dash. He should’ve known she’d never try out for a team she won’t be the best on.  
  
At the end of tryouts, she’s on the sidelines gulping down water, and even though her face is a little red and her hair a slight mess as it tries to escape from her ponytail, she still somehow looks like a fucking model.  
  
“Good job today,” he says as he’s walking past her and towards the locker room.  
  
“Thanks,” she says, groaning as she stretches out her calf muscle. “I know.”  
  
It’s that cocky attitude of hers that makes him think she’d be fucking insane in bed. She knows exactly how hot she is and she isn’t afraid to own it. He likes that a lot.  
  
His eyes follow the trail of sweat running from her neck down to her breasts and she smirks at him when he looks her in the eye again.  
  
“So when’s practice, coach?”  
  
She can’t fucking call him that. There’s no way that’s gonna be a thing. He’ll literally do something stupid and reckless, like fuck her in the locker room showers, if she calls him that again.  
  
“Don’t call me coach,” he says, tries to play it cool because he knows her well enough at this point to know she’d just keep doing it if she found out he secretly likes it. “Just Val is fine.”  
  
He doesn’t know when that became fine, but it’s preferable, anyway.  
  
She looks around, calculating, then puts a hand on his chest after confirming everyone else has already taken off for the showers. She’s actually fucking pouting up at him. “But I like it… Has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Coach…”  
  
“Lucrecia,” he warns, and her eyebrows shoot up at the mention of her full name. Yeah, two can play at this game. She’ll see. “Take a shower,” he says, then shamelessly checks her out again, running a finger from her collarbone down to her cleavage. Fuck. “You’re all… wet.”  
  
Her eyes go wide, and he thinks she lets out a little whine, which he literally can’t fucking handle, so he steps back and decides he might as well run a few laps now that he’s here and already wearing running shoes.  
  
As he takes off in the opposite direction, he hears her yell, “Good advice, coach,” and he swears nothing has ever sounded hotter than her calling him coach.  
  
This is all so fucking wrong.  
  
He’s on the fucking highway to hell. How does that song go again? He hopes he’s going down, all the way.  
  
He’s not talking about hell.  
  
//


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're definitely all just reading this for the plot, so... Here's a completely plotless chapter!

It becomes routine for Lu to linger after class, a sharp-tongued remark prepared, trying to get him to crack.  
  
He isn’t going to.  
  
She’s seventeen, so no matter how badly he wants her, he’s not gonna act on it. There’s too much on the line. Like, his dignity, his career, his freedom. He’s not gonna go to jail just because he has a thing for hot brunettes with tight legs.  
  
He can tell she’s getting frustrated at his restraint because she kicks things up a notch. Her excuses for wanting to see him during office hours get increasingly more ridiculous, and she finds reasons to track him down outside of class hours, too. Track practice is three times a week now, as they’re building up for meet season, and she spends an entire practice faking a calf cramp to get him to massage it for her.  
  
It’s really fucking transparent, because she winks at him as he starts working on her leg, but it’s not like he can just stop now — he can’t have anyone else around thinking he’s a shitty teacher who’s refusing to help his students.  
  
He’s sitting next to Cayetana in the auditorium when Lu’s name is announced as the upperclassmen representative elected student body president, and he claps for her and gives her a private little nod when she makes eye contact as she walks off the stage and grins at him. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen that grin on her face, so genuine and open and very much not put on.  
  
There’s a little reception afterward, for the faculty and the newly elected student council to mingle at, and he’s just sort of minding his own business, chatting with Caye about something or another, when Lu comes over to interrupt. He sees her coming from a mile away, a determined little glare on her face that she masks behind a smile. Caye has her hand on his arm in a super innocent, collegial way, but Lu looks livid. He’s pretty sure he’s the only one to notice — she really is an excellent actress.  
  
“Hi Valerio,” she greets, and he thinks it’s amusing to hear his full name coming from her lips. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Cayetana,” and gives her a curt little nod.  
  
Addressing the blonde next to her, she sort of wiggles in between them in an effortless way, then says, “Sorry, I’m gonna need to borrow him for a moment,” and if her reputation for being an intense pushover who is terrifyingly serious about her grades didn’t precede her, he’s sure Caye would pick up on the fact that this is literally ridiculous. The blonde laughs a little, mouths, “Good luck,” to him and then Lu is leading him away, a hand on his arm.  
  
He’s struck by how grown up she looks in the mahogany dress she’s wearing. Her lips are painted a dark red, like the color she would bleed if he were to bite down on them a little too hard and— he probably shouldn’t let himself think about that right now.  
  
“Congrats on the win,” he says instead, and she flashes him a brief smile. “What’s up,” he asks, taking a sip of his champagne.  
  
Lu doesn’t waste any time. “Are you fucking the art teacher?”  
  
He literally almost chokes on his drink. Jesus. “What?”  
  
“I saw you two talking,” she says, as if that explains anything. “So?”  
  
“Lucrecia, this is a completely inappropriate line of questioning,” he mutters, running a hand through his curls. “That’s none of your business.”  
  
She’s fucking crazy. He really, really likes that about her. He’s pretty sure she’s only shown him the very tip of the iceberg when it comes to her insanity, and he kind of wants to see more of it. Does that make him a masochist? Maybe.  
  
“My tuition pays for your salary,” she replies hotly. “I’m pretty sure the school isn’t paying you to fuck the first teacher who’s willing to get on her back for you.”  
  
Christ. “We are not talking about this.”  
  
And there isn't much to talk about, anyway. They occasionally hook up, the sex is okay — it's definitely nothing to write home about. The end.  
  
Lu chuckles meanly. Her voice is low, and her hand is still holding onto his arm. “What’s she like?”  
  
To anyone else, this must look like a perfectly innocent student-teacher conversation, because Lu smiles good-naturedly and barely lets the tension in the air show on her face. But he’s seen her like this one too many times now, so he picks up on the set of her jaw, on the dark, menacing look in her eye.  
  
He has no idea what to tell her. He probably shouldn’t even acknowledge her question at all, but a sick part of him wants her to know that he’s only sleeping with Cayetana because he can’t have _her_ , that this is her fucking fault, somehow.  
  
“She’s… Fine,” he settles on, and she throws her head back to laugh, like she really didn’t expect him to answer. He's already thinking about ways to get her to laugh like that again. Her beauty is actually unreal.   
  
Finally, she removes her hand from his arm, gives him a quick once over, and nods. “Okay.”  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“As long as you think of me while you’re with her,” she says, and he has literally no idea how she’s this bold. She really shouldn’t be.

“I don’t need your permission,” he says, finally, and she gives him a pitiful look. There’s clearly something on her mind, and he’s not sure he wants to hear whatever bold thing she’ll come up with.   
  
Things are too tense, so he laughs it off, then walks away from her without another word and spends the rest of the mixer trying not to notice how she’s clearly watching him from across the room.  
  
She’s gonna get him in so much trouble, but right now, when he can feel her eyes on him like this, he doesn’t really care.  
  
//  
  
There’s a knock on his door a few days later. It’s after midnight, it’s Friday, and he has literally no idea who would possibly bother him at this time of day. 

It’s a little late for visitors. He’s in a pair of sweats and no shirt, playing a solo tournament of Fifa while he’s drinking some really nice scotch. Living on campus is great because it means he gets to stay here rent-free, but it also means he’s had to give up on having a social life on weekends. That part kind of sucks. It’s nice to know he could just go knock on Cayetana’s door if he ever gets particularly lonely, but he really hasn’t been feeling like it lately.

When he opens the door, Lu is standing there, a resigned smile on her face, and he runs a hand over his face as he debates whether or not to let her come inside. All she does is stare at his abs, looking a little starstruck. Yeah, okay — that feels pretty fucking nice. It probably shouldn’t, but it does. 

“What are you doing here,” he asks, and swears she almost looks nervous like this. That’s new. She’s wearing a pair of tight gray yoga pants that don’t quite reach her ankles and a casual, flowy white shirt. Her bra is purple, and he hates himself for instantly noticing how well the color goes with her tan complexion. He wonders if her panties match. He wonders if she’s even wearing any, with the way these pants look like they’re painted on. He can’t see any panty lines, anyway. 

He’s such a fucking creep for noticing at all. 

She still hasn’t said anything, and he sighs, then motions for her to come in. It’s dark out and the girls had a party tonight so they’re probably all busy trying not to pass out in a drunken stupor. That hopefully means no one saw her walk over here. Now that he thinks about it, he’s curious why she’s not over in the common room drinking with the rest of them. 

There’s a grin on her face when she walks past him, and she makes sure to brush his arm with hers as she does. 

Having her in his apartment, at night, with no one else around to keep an eye on them is an objectively terrible idea. Apparently he needs a chaperone to be around minors now. That’s a disturbing thing to ponder, so he figures he’ll put that out of his mind for now. 

She looks around a little, takes in his simple home decor, then sits down on his couch and stares at the glass of scotch in his hand. “What, aren’t you gonna offer me a drink?” 

“You’re seventeen, Lu,” he laughs. “Would you like water or coke?” 

She rolls her eyes at him. “Rum and Coke is fine, thanks.” 

He comes back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer, and laughs when she scoffs as she reaches for the drink. He’s standing right in front of her, while she’s sitting on the couch, putting her at eye level with his crotch. He should probably go put on a shirt and then get as far away from her as possible.  
  
He would, but she’s got other plans. It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion and yet he’s still powerless to stop it. Her tiny, dainty little hand comes up to touch his abs, and he thinks he sees her lick her lips. She keeps her hand there, not moving, and is she staring at his crotch? Jesus.  
  
He grabs her hand roughly, removing it from his stomach, then lets go and walks over to his desk where he dropped his shirt earlier. (He lives alone, alright? He gets to be messy.)  
  
“Boo,” he hears her say, and he laughs as he walks back over to her, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. It’s not a particularly big couch, so she’s still too close to him, but it’s something.  
  
“My house, my rules.”  


That seems to get her attention. “Is that so?”

He grins and she bites her lip. God, she needs to leave right now. This is literally the dumbest fucking thing he’s ever done. “Rule number one: You stay over there,” he points to the other end of the couch, where she’s tucked her legs under herself. She nods, intrigued. “Actually, technically rule number one is you can’t be here.” 

She takes a swig of her beer and he curses. There’s no conceivable reason why she should look this hot drinking beer from a bottle. Everything about her screams wet dream. “Did you come up with that one yourself? Very original.”

“Nah, that one’s straight out to the student code of conduct, actually.”

She rolls her eyes. It makes a lot of sense that she’s the kind of girl who diligently follows rules as long as she thinks they’re sensible, but then completely disregards them when they don’t suit her. 

He’s had a glass of scotch or two before she got here, and she seems a little tipsy too. “How was the party?”

Lu just rolls her eyes again. “Everyone at this school is fucking boring.”

“I thought you and Carla hit it off,” he’s not really trying to get information out of her. This isn’t curiosity getting the better of him, he’s just making conversation. 

When she rolls her eyes for the third time in however many minutes, he wonders if that ever makes her eye sockets hurt. She sure does it a lot. “She’s home for the weekend to go to some fucking wedding.”

“So you decided to pester me instead.”  


“Yeah, this is clearly torture for you,” she jokes, and her lips sort of curl into a smirk when he just takes a long sip of beer in response. 

“I have an idea,” he says. It’s definitely the alcohol talking. “You can hang out here under one condition.”

Oh, she loves that. She leans forward eagerly, shifting her weight onto her knees. “Can we play strip poker?” 

God, she’s so fucking bad. Sometimes he wonders if this is all an act. No seventeen-year-old can actually be this sexual, right? Shouldn’t she be shy and inexperienced? Her flirting game is stronger than that of most women his age. It’s fucked. He had Cayetana on her back on this very couch a few days ago, and not a single thing she said or did was as much of a turn on as the casual back and forth he’s engaging in with Lu right now. 

He grins at Lu and shakes his head no. She pouts, which does something to him; causes some sort of primal instinct to kick in. “You can stay for a bit, but you have to tell me why you transferred.” 

There’s a mischievous quality to the grin on her lips, like she’s relishing in holding all this storytelling power. “So all this time you’ve just been getting closer to me to find out how I managed to get kicked out of catholic school, huh?”  
  
His beer tastes more bitter than usual today. He doesn’t answer her question because he’s pretty sure it was rhetorical. She scoots towards him on the couch with practiced ease, immediately making him sit up a little straighter. Then, she launches into the story, complete with animated impressions of teachers and classmates and Father Bernard, who is apparently the reason she got kicked out. It’s a little startling for him to realize he actually really enjoys talking to her.  
  
“Anyway, so all my life they teach me to be honest and go to confession and repent, right?”  
  
Right. He really wants to know where the hell she’s going with this.  
  
“So like the good little Catholic girl I am,” he raises an eyebrow in doubt and grins at her. She rolls her eyes, then adjusts her shirt where it’s fallen off both of her shoulders. Too bad. He was kind of enjoying that look on her. Bridging the distance between them, he pulls it down again and sits back without saying anything. She fucking smirks at him, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him. “As I was saying, like the good little Catholic girl I am, I go to confession one Sunday and tell father Bernard that I have… Sinned.”  
  
It’s the way she looks hotter than anyone else who’s ever spent time in this fucking apartment that makes him say it. Makes him look this seventeen-year-old girl right in the eye as he says, “What sort of sinning are we talking about?”  
  
Lu feigns being uncomfortable, like this is hard for her to talk about, but he can tell she’s totally putting on a show. She’s not as good of an actress as she’d like to think. “Sins of the flesh,” she says, and he literally has to cover himself with his beer bottle because hearing her say those words instantly makes his cock stir in his pants.  
  
Something about her just gets to him, like she's an IV dripping straight into his bloodstream.  
  
Okay, change of plans, he really needs her to leave. He needs her to leave _now_.  
  
But first, he’s gonna need her to elaborate on these sins she allegedly committed.  
  
“What does that even mean? Please enlighten this lifelong atheist,” he says, which sounds way too fucking flirty to be appropriate. He’s pretty sure their interactions stopped being appropriate the second time she called him Val and he didn’t correct her.  
  
“It means he went to the school administration, told them I was having premarital sex, and they literally expelled me for it, saying it was against the student code of conduct,” she deadpans, then finishes the rest of her beer in one large gulp. 

His first instinct is to make a lewd joke about perverted priests in confession booths. When he decides not to go for that, his train of thought zeroes in on the fact that he at least knows she’s not a virgin now. Maybe the brazen flaunting of her sexuality really is just that — her being her authentic, flirty self. He kind of wonders if she wanted him to know that. 

“Isn’t that illegal? That sounds like grounds for a lawsuit. Discrimination, or something.”

She shakes her head, smiling at him. “It’s cute of you to think private schools aren’t legally allowed to refuse admission to students on literally any grounds at any time.” 

He hasn’t really thought about that. Touché.

She gets up to use the bathroom, and when she comes back they talk about random shit for a little while longer until she starts yawning and he realizes if she falls asleep on his couch he’ll have to deal with waking up with her at his place. No fucking way he could handle that temptation, and she’d have to sneak back to her room in bright daylight. 

That’s obviously not gonna work. 

She’s sitting next to him, her knee brushing his, and he puts a hand on her knee to get her attention. Why is she suddenly so close to him? When did that happen? He really is horrible at keeping an appropriate distance between them. 

He’s still half-hard and touching her knee is apparently something that turns him on now which really just emphasizes how fucking insane this whole thing is. Knees have got to be the least sexy body part ever; this shouldn’t be doing anything for him. 

But he sees her breathing get a little erratic, watches her brown eyes get impossibly darker, and even though he knows what’s about to happen, he lets it. He fucking lets it happen because he’s weak, and she’s taking advantage. 

He may be older, but she’s the one wielding all the power here. 

Then she’s kissing him, and he pulls her into his lap without a second of hesitation. It’s easily one of the hottest things he’s ever done. Fuck.  
  
The kiss is rough, but she's precise, her tongue moving in a meticulous rhythm; somehow completely in tune with his own. She seems to be into lip-biting, which is information he really didn't need — it's just another item to add to the long list of things about her that he fantasizes about. 

He fists his hands in her shirt, trying hard not to just slide them up her stomach under it. It’s one thing to be kissing her, but he definitely can’t let this get into groping territory. Then she angles her hips just right and grinds down on him and he swears he sees stars. How the fuck is she so good at this? 

Actually... “How are you so good at this?” 

“Shut up,” she commands, and tries to kiss him again but he keeps her at arm’s length. 

“You’ve been at all-girls schools all your life, where would you even find anyone to...” He stops short of saying what he’s thinking. He probably shouldn’t be asking the seventeen-year-old in his lap ( _Jesus fucking Christ_ ) how she went about finding people to fuck at catholic school. 

She looks up at him like she thinks he’s stupid, or naive, or just really fucking annoying for trying to have this conversation when she’s literally sitting in his lap. Groaning, he realizes she probably kissed plenty of girls over the years — now he’s picturing her in her little catholic school girl get up, acting all innocent and stuff, and then imagines her 69-ing her roommate which... he needs to put a stop to all of this right now. God. 

There’s just a little bit of aggression in her voice when she says, “Are you trying to slut-shame me? Is that it?” 

Fuck. He’s already into her enough; he didn’t need to know that she enjoys a good passive-aggressive fight as much as him. 

He kisses her again because he’s at a loss for words. That’s the sort of effect she has on him. Her hands slip under his shirt and she literally moans when she touches his abs. She probably has no idea how hot all the little sounds she’s making are. He’s not gonna be the one to tell her; there’s no way she needs any further encouragement. 

It’s when she whines his name ( _Val_ ) all impatient and needy as she pulls his hand under her shirt that he finally gets a grip. He gets a grip on the situation, not on her hips like he wants to. He lets himself kiss her for a tiny bit longer, then pushes her off of his lap and gets up, putting some much-needed distance between them. 

She looks absolutely ravished already, her mascara a little smudged and her hair a total mess around her face. There’s a small red mark forming on her shoulder that he doesn’t remember putting there. It shouldn’t make him want to defile her further, but it does. 

They’re both breathing hard, and she glares at him when she realizes he’s trying to put a stop to this. 

“Val,” she draws out the syllable. He forms a fist with his right hand and tries hard to think about literally anything other than how much he wants to rip those fucking faux-casual yoga pants off of her. She probably doesn’t even do yoga. 

“You have to leave,” he insists, and he thinks his voice comes out sounding more confident than he actually is. 

But Lu has other plans. In the few weeks he’s known her, he’s already learned that anyone standing in the way of her and her plans is collateral damage. He shouldn’t want her to decimate him this much. She stands, then takes two confident strides over to him, pulling on the drawstrings of his sweats. Her dainty little hands are inches away from where he’d really like them most, and it’s literal fucking torture to keep his hands to himself. 

She must know that, too, because she looks up at him through hooded eyes and bites her lip a little, then slides one of her hands past the elastic waistband of his pants. 

This can’t fucking happen, he reminds himself, even as she moans when she realizes he’s not wearing anything underneath. Her hand wraps around him and he hisses, breathes out her name like a warning. When it doesn’t look like she’s gonna stop, he grips her wrist tight and pulls her hand away. It's literally painful to push her away, but he has to.

“No,” is all he says, and she smirks at him. Yeah, it didn’t really sound like he meant that. 

“No?” Her voice comes out all raspy and her hand comes up to cradle his cheek. “I don’t think so.” 

He has never wanted anything more than this in his life, he’s pretty sure. God, she’s fucking addicting. Like coke, but worse. She’s far more tempting than a temporary high.

When she leans up to kiss him again, he pulls away firmly and takes a few steps back. 

“I’m your teacher, Lucrecia,” he says, in a last-ditch attempt to get that point across. “This can never happen again.” 

Her laugh is short and mean. She glances at his face, then at the obvious physical reaction she’s having on him and smirks. 

“You’re right,” she nods, then grabs her phone and steps closer to him again to whisper in his ear. “I’ll just have to find someone else to take care of my... needs.” 

His intake of breath is sharp. He shouldn’t want to claim her as his, shouldn’t feel the need to tell her she better not even _think_ about letting anyone else touch her. She’s literally the hottest woman he’s ever seen. God, just thinking that makes him feel creepy. 

Then she pulls away, shoots him one last look, and turns to leave.

“Thanks for the drink,” she says, casual, like she didn’t just spend what felt like an eternity fucking grinding in her biology teacher’s lap. 

He’s not thinking clearly when he replies, “Anytime,” because he definitely isn’t implying that she’s welcome to come over again. 

The door closes behind her and he practically runs over to lock it, then falls back on the couch and starts fisting himself. It’s definitely a new low, getting off while thinking about her, but if the alternative is actually fucking his student, he’s pretty sure this is preferable. 

He comes embarrassingly fast and as he’s cleaning himself up he can’t help but wonder if she’s over in her dorm, two fingers curled inside of herself as she replays tonight’s encounter in her head. He fucking hopes she is. 

When he walks into the bathroom, he finds she’s scribbled her number on a piece of paper. This is what he gets for keeping a pen and one of those cheesy guest book gimmicks in there. 

He’s definitely not gonna text her, but he saves it anyway.

// 

There’s a knock on his door again the next morning, and he instantly feels a sense of deja vu coming on when he opens it and Lu is standing there, in her running gear this time. 

“Lu,” he says, and she grins a little. “What—“ 

“You told the track team we’re going for an endurance run today, remember?” 

Oh shit, he did say that. Last night’s... events kind of made him forget how to function. 

“Shit,” he says, and smiles when she raises a brow at him. He’s not supposed to curse in front of students, but he’s also not supposed to want to fuck them, so. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you guys at the back gate.” 

For the entire hour-long run, she keeps pace with him at the front, listens to him make small talk with some pale, tall, strawberry blonde guy on the team. When they finally get back to campus, they’re all pretty exhausted, and he instructs them on a few quick cool-down stretches and thanks them for coming. 

He sees Lu go over to talk to the guy he’s been chatting with, watches her touch his arm teasingly, and it’s almost enough to make him seek her out to interrupt. She briefly glances at him when the guy reaches for his water bottle, gives him a catty little smile, and he makes sure to glare at her before he retreats back to his apartment for a shower. 

There’s no way he’s gonna spend all of track season watching her eye-fuck this preppy kid with the dumb-looking grin. No fucking way.

The realization that he’s absolutely powerless to stop it makes him so angry, he has to do a few sets of pushups to calm down.

Fuck her. 

(He wants to.) 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder that this is rated explicit. Last chance to stop reading!

After track practice on a Wednesday afternoon, Valerio goes for his usual leisurely jog around school premises — a habit he picked up to avoid being cornered by Lu — and then stops by the locker room showers to make sure nobody left anything behind. Kids are stupid and forgetful — there’s usually at least one or two items of clothing lying around that he needs to remind people to pick up. 

When he walks into the boys' locker room, he sees a pair of purple Nike shorts and a white tank neatly folded up on one of the benches and frowns. Lu’s running shoes are next to the clothes, and he’s about to just pick up her stuff and go when he hears her loud, distinct giggle coming from the showers. There’s a male voice shushing her, and Valerio instantly feels himself grow angry. 

This better not be what he thinks it is. 

He probably shouldn’t tiptoe towards the showers to take a look, but he does. Lu has her back to him and she’s naked, and wet from the shower, and looking at this stupid teenage boy like she’s daring him to come closer. 

Valerio wants to interrupt, wants to give them both a talking to, but he’s a little too fixated on the curve of Lu’s ass to move. Fuck. He’s pretty sure it’s part of his job to break up this sort of shit and send them both to their respective principals’ office. 

But there is no way she didn’t do this on purpose. And there’s no way he has the self-control to calmly tell them off and not have Lu think she won, somehow, so he stays put and watches.

When the taller kid (yes, he knows his name; no, he won’t refer to him as anything but ‘kid’) walks over to Lu and picks her up effortlessly, she giggles again, and then they’re kissing and he’s pushing her against the wall, and her legs wrap around him and— Jesus Christ. 

This isn’t really how he imagined the first time he’d get to see her naked, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t enjoying the view on some weird, fucked up level.

“Guzmán,” Lu moans, and Valerio feels an irrational amount of anger coursing through his veins. It may be jealousy; he’s not even gonna let himself think about that. 

“We shouldn’t do this here,” the kid says, and Valerio takes a step forward to get a better view. “Someone could walk in. Valerio is probably around.”

Lu looks past the boy she’s got her legs wrapped around, looks right at Valerio over his shoulder and locks eyes with him. There’s a wicked grin on her lips and she bites the bottom one, then goes back to kissing Guzmán. 

“Come on,” she urges breathlessly, and now that he knows this is all for show, that she’s doing this for his benefit, he can see right through her faked enthusiasm. She looks right at him again when she says, “Fuck me already,” and he literally almost fucking forgets to breathe. 

Predictably, the kid hoists her up higher, his hands on her ass holding her up, and Lu still hasn’t broken eye contact, is still looking at Valerio with a smug smirk on her lips. He can pinpoint the exact moment Guzmán finally pushes into her because Lu’s eyes roll back a little and her back bows off the wall. 

She keeps her eyes open the whole time, giving him these looks that no sane person should ever be directing at their teacher and he’s literally going to kill her. 

This is wrong. The fact that he’s watching is wrong, but so is the fact that she’s fucking some stupidly tall teenager to provoke him. All of it is wrong. The fact that it’s _working_ is probably the absolute wrongest. 

He kind of wants to touch himself, but that would be too risky to even fathom; if anyone else walked in now, he’d have enough explaining to do already. 

Lu puts on a great show. He’s sure some of the noises she makes are exaggerated because he doubts a lanky teenage boy would have the finesse to fuck them out of her. She looks away from him for a while, kisses the kid she’s fucking instead, and then breaks away from his mouth to let out a high pitched little scream. That definitely wasn’t fake. 

He wonders if it’s the thought of him watching that’s pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He fucking hopes so. 

When her moans get louder and the kid speeds up his movements, Valerio looks straight at Lu, shakes his head, and walks out. He’s not gonna stick around for the conclusion to all of this. 

Once he’s outside, he rounds the corner and leans back against the cold concrete wall of the locker room facility. His breathing is a little ragged, and he ends up closing his eyes for a moment as he focuses on calming down. 

As for what he just witnessed? He’s still in total disbelief. He should’ve known she’d pull this shit with him — he never should’ve played this stupid, dangerous cat and mouse game with her in the first place. 

The door opens, and he peers around the corner in time to see Guzmán leave, a smug smile on his face. Valerio sort of instantly wants to punch that grin off of his face, but then he realizes Lu must still be in there, and decides to once and for all put a stop to this bullshit.  
  
As always, he walks right into the trap she set for him.

He doesn’t knock before he goes in, and she’s just sitting on one of the benches wrapped in a white towel, her wet hair tumbling around her shoulders. 

“Took you long enough,” she grins at him lazily. He doesn’t do what he wants to, which is to take several steps closer to her and rip that tiny excuse for a towel off of her. All things considered, he’s pretty sure that’s some impressive restraint right there.  
  
Of course she planned this. Of course he fell for it.

“You have to stop doing this,” he says from across the room, leaning back against the door in case anyone happens to drop by. 

She gets up — fuck, no, no, no — and takes a step towards him, giving him an innocent look when she reaches for her hair and runs a hand through the wet strands. “Stop doing what?”

“Come on, Lu.”

She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, and he watches in agony as her towel threatens to slip down her body. It doesn’t, though. “No, really — stop engaging in age-appropriate relations with my peers? I thought this is what you wanted.”

“Don’t even try to pull this innocent act with me,” he says, raising his voice. All Lu does in response is raise her eyebrows and shrug before she lets the towel drop to the floor. Taking her time, she reaches for her clothes to put on. “Jesus fucking Christ, Lu.” 

She really is shameless. He watches her slip into a pair of lacy panties, then groans when she reaches back to put on a matching bra. It just makes standing here and not going over there right now to play with her tits harder, because she’s pushing them out, and they look fucking amazing. 

And yeah, she clearly planned this. He’s never noticed her showering and changing after a workout before — she usually does that back at the dorms. The thought of her picking out underwear to change into just to fuck with him is making him a little crazy.

“I really don’t see how you creeping around and watching your students fuck in the showers is somehow my fault,” she says, now at least wearing a full set of underwear. It’s lacy and see-through, but it’s better than nothing. 

“If you don’t stop this ridiculous pursuit of—“ he doesn’t get to finish that sentence because she’s right in front of him then, grabbing him by the neck.

“Then what? Huh? You’ll put me in detention? Make me write an essay on why I shouldn’t have tried to fuck my teacher?” Her grip on his neck is rough, and if she moved her hand a little lower and squeezed, he’d probably struggle to breathe which— no, this is not the right time for choking fantasies.

And she’s right, too — that’s the most infuriating part of all this. She’s way too fucking smart for her own good. He can’t use any of his power to teach her a lesson. She’s a straight-A student, newly elected student body president — there’s no way he could put her in detention without it raising some serious questions.  


He grabs her ponytail roughly in retaliation, pulls on it hard enough for her to wince. Good. The way it pulls her closer to him and makes her chest brush against him is… less good. 

“At least use protection next time,” he says, voice low, his face now inches from hers. She’s clearly trying to look unaffected, but he can see the subtle way her lips part, knows what her eyes look like now when they’re filled with pure want. “Doubt your father would be happy if you let some random fuckboy impregnate you.” 

Lu laughs, shakes her head at him like she can’t quite believe him. There’s that pitying smile again, the one that always makes him realize he’s underestimating her. It’s a telltale sign that she’s about to say something that will probably make him want to throw caution to the wind. 

“I’m on the pill,” she says, delighting in the way he lets go of her ponytail to run a hand through his hair instead. 

That’s something he really didn’t want to know. All it makes him do is picture fucking her bareback, filling her up with his cum and making her scream his name. She clearly knows that, too, because she moves her hand down, runs it from his neck to his chest. 

It takes all the restraint he can muster to roughly grab her hand and push it off of him. 

“You’re seventeen,” is all he says, like that makes a difference, like that’s the only reason this is wrong. It’s the only thing holding him back — at this point it definitely is. 

Lu grins because she clearly came to the same conclusion. “For two more weeks.” 

More information he didn’t want or need. Great. 

He shakes his head and takes a step back. Pulling his shirt over his head, he walks towards the showers and smirks a little when he looks back at her standing there, ogling him. It’s nice to know the pining is mutual. 

He isn’t even doing it just to fuck with her — he’s sweaty and feels pretty dirty after their little exchange, so a cold shower sounds great. He always keeps a clean pair of sweats in a locker here, so there’s no reason to walk all the way back to his place to get cleaned up. 

Stepping out of his shoes and pants, he calls her name. She’s still just staring at him from across the room, and he can see her nipples are hard, poking through her bra. When she hears her name, she meets his eyes, and he loves what he sees in them. 

Yeah, there’s no way this ends with him not having her, at least once. But not today. 

“Put on some fucking clothes and go back to your room,” he orders, then pulls down his briefs and rounds the corner towards the showers. He doesn’t turn around to see her reaction, instead focusing on the steady stream of cold water. 

It almost feels like he’s gotten a tiny bit of control over the situation back. 

When he walks back out into the locker room a few minutes later, she’s gone, but the criminally tiny pair of panties she was wearing are sitting on the bench next to his clothes, crumpled up like she couldn’t even be bothered to fold them properly. He can’t resist picking them up. They’re wet, of course. He lifts them to his nose and breathes her in, somehow resisting the urge to lick them. 

No. He’ll learn what she tastes like soon enough. There’s no need to spoil the surprise.  
  
Two weeks seem like an eternity to wait for that, though.  
  
Sighing, he pulls on a clean pair of sweatpants and stuffs the pair of panties in his pocket like the dirty old man he is.  
  
He’s not sure when he went from resigning himself to the fact that this can never happen to looking up her date of birth on the school directory, but he probably never stood a chance against her anyway.

The text he sends her at 11:37 at night, after unsuccessfully trying to drink away his perverted thoughts, reads ‘any plans on October 12th’ and he swears when a read receipt instantly appears.This is definitely the dumbest fucking thing he’s ever done.

He turns off his phone before he gets a chance to see her reply and wonders if it’s too late to become a monk and swear off women altogether. 

(The first thing he sees in the morning is her response, and it’s enough to make him want to punch a hole in the wall. All she’s written is ‘you?’ with a little smirking emoji, and when she glances at him as she walks into biology class later that day, he very nearly loses it.)  
  
//  
  
It’s probably his fault, the way it happens.  
  
He invites Caye over for what they both know is little more than a booty call. They’re standing in the teachers' lounge chatting during lunch, and he doesn’t even realize Lu is around eavesdropping until Caye says “Sure, I’ll be over after dinner,” and he feels a hand on his arm.  
  
Students aren’t allowed to be in here, but that’s clearly not stopping her.

“Hi Valerio,” Lu says behind him, making him jump. He turns around to find her grinning at him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Cayetana mumbles something about leaving to get a coffee and he just nods at her, completely disinterested in her presence now that Lu is here. 

He smiles at her, his eyes very clearly sending signals about keeping her fucking distance while other teachers are around. “How can I help?” 

“Can we go over some things for the Halloween run-athon? The student council has some budget questions.” 

Of course, she chose to put herself in charge of organizing the one silly school event he’s been forced to head up. It’s still a month away and he knows from experience that there’s barely anything to prepare for it — it’s essentially a running event where students find sponsors for each mile they run, usually resulting in a pretty nice sum of money being donated to charity. He has no fucking clue what budget she’s talking about. 

“Sure, I have a free period now if you have a few minutes,” he agrees. 

“No can do,” Lu says, giving him a coy look. “I’m off to religious ed.”

Baseless provocation is kind of her middle name. He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, but he knows as well as she does that religious education is one of the few classes being taught in a co-ed setting at Las Encinas — held in conjunction with the neighboring boys’ school. She’s basically throwing the fact that she might get to see her stupid fucking boy toy in his face.  


He’s not going to fall for this. “Later then,” he says and she nods, her smile as innocent as ever. The effortless way she walks the line between inappropriate and student of the year is absolutely fascinating. 

“I’ll drop by this afternoon,” she says, then turns around and walks away, her plaid skirt swishing in her wake. 

It takes him a second to understand that she plans on coming over to his place. He doesn’t hold office hours on Fridays.  
  
He’s spent the past two days trying to come to terms with the inevitability of how he’s absolutely going to fuck his student on or after October 12th, and he needs to get laid. That was the whole idea behind approaching Cayetana today. He needs a distraction because now that he’s allowed himself to think about going there, it’s getting harder and harder to not just shut Lu up by putting a hand over her mouth and telling her to get on her knees. 

There’s no way in hell she didn’t hear him make plans for tonight.  
  
The rest of the day goes by a little too quickly, and he ends up walking across campus and over to his apartment after his final class of the day — 8th-grade bio — ready to take a nap. It’s finally the weekend, so there’s really no reason not to relax a little.

A knock on his door wakes him up, and he’s disoriented for a moment, looking around the completely dark living room, groaning when he sits up and notices the crick in his neck from the couch pillow he slept on. 

Checking his phone, he realizes it’s almost past dinner time so it’s probably Cayetana at his door. He stretches his arms over his head on the way to the door, then opens it and he’s too tired to argue with Lu when she instantly pushes past him and into the living room. She’s wearing a short, casual (for _her_ standards) blue cotton dress, and he wants to comment on the fact that it’s a little too cold outside for that sort get-up now that it’s late September. 

“Lu, you have to go,” he tries, but she’s already sitting down on the couch, crossing her legs Indian style, which makes her stupidly short dress ride up. Of course. “Come on, make whatever inappropriate comment you came here to make and then off you go.” 

“So, about the fundraising,” she says, and he sighs, then sits down in the armchair across from her. He can literally see straight down her dress from this angle and he’s pretty sure she’s not wearing a bra. “We’re thinking about supporting a different charity this year.” 

“Go for it,” he says. He’s all for having the students make their own calls for these things; it’s nice to see them care about people other than themselves, for a change. “Let me know if there’s anything I can lend a hand with.” 

She snorts. “Well, you could—“ There’s a knock on his door, and Lu smirks at him when she sees the panicked expression on his face. Fuck. Cayetana can’t find her in here. 

“Just a second,” he yells towards the door, then walks over to the couch to silently pull Lu up by the hand and lead her to his bedroom. That’s probably the safest place to hide her in. “If you make a sound, I swear to god I will—“ she interrupts him by leaning up on her toes to peck him on the lips, and he instantly wants more. God, it’s unfair how badly her forward nature makes him want her. It’s fucked up that she clearly came here for the sole purpose of getting payback for the shower incident, and yet, he’s kind of weirdly into the idea of fucking Cayetana while Lu watches. He must be going crazy. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispers, then opens the door to his closet and steps inside. There are a few slits in the closet door for whatever reason, so he knows she’ll at least be able to breathe, and he’s already wondering if he should convince Caye to go over to her place instead. “Enjoy yourself,” Lu says from her spot behind the door, and he’s pretty sure that’s the last thing on his mind right now. He doesn’t appreciate the glee in her voice when she says it. 

When he finally opens the door for Caye, she’s beaming at him, holding a dish of something in her arms. 

“Sorry,” he says, pulling up the sleeves on his dress shirt. “I was taking a nap.” 

“I noticed you missed dinner,” she replies, then takes a step inside. “I brought chocolate cake.” 

That’s actually really nice of her, Valerio thinks. He’s kind of hungry. 

They sit down on his couch and open a bottle of red to go with the cake. The conversation is comfortable and easy, and he honestly kind of forgets Lu is even around until Caye leans forward to wipe some chocolate off his lip and leans in for a kiss. 

It’s tame. That doesn’t make it a bad kiss, per se, and he likes Caye but god, the chemistry feels off. That doesn’t stop him from kissing her back, obviously. This isn’t his first rodeo. 

She finally gets up the courage to be a little more demanding, moves into his lap and unbuttons his shirt, and he holds back just to see what she’ll do. He’s all for having her take charge a little bit. When she goes for his belt, the clinking sound of the buckle the only sound in the room, he inhales sharply. He really hopes Lu isn’t gonna do anything insane like move from her spot in the closet to watch them. 

He should probably try to pay a little more attention to the blonde in his lap, because she’s just sitting back on his thighs, watching him with a little smile on her face when he looks up at her next. 

Her hand goes out to brush some curls out of his face. “Everything okay?”

No, everything is not okay. Their student is hiding in his closet because she’s a little minx who gets off on the idea of torturing him. “Yes,” he says. “Of course, sorry.” 

“Hey, let’s go to your bedroom,” Caye murmurs, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

That’s an objectively terrible idea. It’s an objectively terrible idea that he can’t object to without having her freak out on him, so he gets up and walks into his bedroom first, just to make sure Lu isn’t sitting on the bed naked or anything like that. 

“I’ll just go use the bathroom,” he hears Caye say in the next room, and he’s quick to open the closet door and motion for Lu to leave right away. 

“That’s a bad idea,” she whispers, and her leaving is already no longer an option now that they’ve wasted precious seconds arguing about it. “She might see me.” 

“Lu, I swear to god,” he says quietly, putting as much effort as possible into sounding menacing. “I will fucking kill you if you move.” 

Lu grins at him, like she’s loving every single second of this. God, knowing her she probably _is_. 

Putting a hand on his chest, she smirks, says, “I can be quiet.”  
  
That instantly makes him think about her with two fingers curled inside herself while her thumb is pressing down on her clit, and he decides he probably gets to lay out some ground rules. That’s not an image he wants to be thinking of when he’s about to be balls deep in another woman. He’s not sure where he finds the ability to be authoritative and threatening all of a sudden. “You don’t get to touch yourself, okay?”  
  
She whines quietly, and he can see her about to say something else when they hear the toilet flush and he remembers that there’s no time for games. Lu rolls her eyes but nods anyway, and he smirks at her as he whispers, “Good girl.” 

He’s just shut the closet door again when Caye walks into the room and instantly comes over to push his shirt off his shoulders. “Now, where were we?” 

And okay, he might be fucking crazy, too. He must be certifiably insane. Maybe Lu just brings out that side of him, because he grins at Caye, pulls her shirt over her head and then turns her around. He pushes her into the mattress and says, “I believe you were about to let me fuck you hard enough to leave bruises.” 

Yes, he’s totally putting on a show for Lu. No, he has no idea why the fuck he’s doing it. 

Cayetana giggles, even though he can kind of see her shudder at his words at first. Yeah, he doesn’t usually bother with dirty talk around her — she’s a sure thing anyway, and he doesn’t want to scare her off. She always looks like a deer in the headlights when he says what he’s thinking in any given sexual situation, and while that’s cute, it also makes him feel like a creep because there’s clearly a power dynamic there that isn’t exactly natural, despite the fact that she’s probably around his age.

But she’s apparently full of surprises today. “It’s sort of hot to watch the students fawn over you all day, knowing that none of them get to have you,” she says, and he groans against her neck. He’s gotten her out of her bra and is pulling down the zipper on her skirt when she laughs and pulls him up for a kiss. “You know they all have crushes on you, right? Sometimes they even come to me for advice.” 

This is definitely not what he’d consider appropriate dirty talk, especially considering the student currently hiding just a few feet away. “Caye please, talk about literally anything else.” 

She smirks a little, and fuck, this is all too weird. “What, you’re not into hot school girl fantasies? The innocent smiles and those short plaid skirts?” 

He’s really going to need her to shut up any minute now. There’s no reason to draw this out any further, so he figures he’ll shut her up by taking her skirt off and leaning in to lick at her through her underwear. Her hips keen off the bed, and he sort of feels his competitive side come out. 

Yeah, he’ll show them both. He can’t have Lu thinking he’s not dedicated to foreplay. 

He takes Caye’s lacy boyshorts off, then leans in for a taste of her and makes sure to suck on her clit the way he knows is sure to drive her crazy. 

“Fuck,” the blonde moans breathlessly, and that’s what he expected to hear, so he’s obviously right. A part of him is glad he’s still got it — it’s been a while. Cayetana is coming completely undone under him, and maybe he should’ve gone down on her sooner because she seemingly loses all inhibitions and looks so much more comfortable than she normally does. It’s kind of hot. 

It would be hotter if the girl he would rather be eating out wasn’t literally watching them through his closet door like the little psychopath she is. Weirdly enough, that almost makes this more fun for him. He feels like he’s trying to please not one but two women at once.

Caye’s kind of easy, honestly, because it only takes him a few minutes to work her up enough for her to start begging for more, and he gives it to her, slipping two fingers into her easily. She’s incredibly close, and he’s actually getting excited about fucking her after this. He really needs to work off some energy. 

He’s nothing if not efficient, and she’s moaning and sort of grabbing onto his hair (hot) in no time, finally clenching around his fingers a few seconds later. Well, that was fun. He kind of forgot how much he likes eating pussy.  
  
“Holy shit,” Caye says, breathing hard, and he grins smugly as he moves up the bed. “I can’t believe you kept your special talents a secret all this time.”  


Okay, so he doesn’t love that she basically just revealed the fact that he doesn’t usually go down on her to Lu, but whatever. He’s hard as fuck, and still wearing his jeans, which are painfully tight at this point so he reaches down to undo the fly, then pushes them off his hips along with his briefs and instantly starts touching himself.  
  
Caye is proactive, he’ll give her that. She sits up, reaches over to his nightstand and grabs a condom, then moves to straddle his thighs as she rips open the package and rolls it on. He really hopes Lu is watching this part closely — protection is important, and he’s not just thinking that because he sometimes teaches health class.  
  
Then he’s got Cayetana in his lap, writhing above him, and decides she’s clearly not gonna be able to set the sort of punishing rhythm he’s after, so he grabs her hips and turns them around instead.  
  
Finesse isn’t what he’s after right now. Instead, he wants to see how loud Cayetana can be, mainly to prove a point to Lu. Fuck, he’s sick.  
  
He fucks her hard and deep and fast, never once letting up, even when she starts keening his name, and he toys with the idea of stopping altogether to see how she’d handle orgasm denial, but doesn’t. The whole idea of showing off for Lu is mostly gone from his mind because instincts take over, and he’s at the point where he might actually die if he doesn’t get to come soon.  
  
Thankfully Caye is close, so he moves a hand to her knee and pulls her leg up over his shoulder for a better angle, then descends into absolute madness when she somehow feels even better all spread eagle like this. It’s kind of a race to the finish line from here on out, and he just barely gets her there before him, his fingers rubbing aggressive circles on her clit while he fucks her through her orgasm.  
  
It’s finally time for him to be selfish, and he relishes in the way Caye’s still spasming around him, lets her pull him deeper as he pumps into her hard and fast, and then he’s coming too, completely collapsing on top of her.  
  
It takes them both a moment to calm their breathing after, and when he does, he pulls out and rolls over, sitting up to tie off the condom and walk over to the bathroom to throw it out. He splashes some cold water on his face while he’s in there, then takes a drink.  
  
When he comes back into his bedroom, Caye is wearing her shirt and underwear again, back to being shy, and he’s reminded that despite the above-average sex they just had, they’re definitely not compatible. He’s still naked and definitely not ashamed to walk around like this, and the drastic contrast of how she must’ve jumped up to get dressed the second he left is amusing.  
  
“That was intense,” she says, and he sits down next to her at the edge of the bed. “I think I need to go home and read my bible now.”  
  
He laughs, but all her little joke does is remind him that a certain disgraced catholic school girl is still in his closet, which can’t be very comfortable, so he should probably try to get Caye out of here.  
  
If he was even remotely interested in making sure Caye is gonna come back for more, he’d say something about how hot she looked while finally letting loose a little, but he’s not. He has no idea if he’ll bother fucking her again at all after tonight; it kind of feels like they’ve reached the peak of their sexual potential together, with tonight’s decent run.  


To his great surprise, it’s Cayetana who leans over to peck his lips and says something about getting home to get some sleep, and he’s relieved because the last thing he needs is for her to get attached. God, that would suck. Lu would fucking break into her place and stab her, probably — she doesn’t seem like she’s above using murder to get what she wants.  
  
Valerio puts on a robe to walk Cayetana to the door, just in case there are students around, then locks it behind himself and walks back into his bedroom, where he finds Lu sitting on his bed, her feet crossed at her ankles, a smug smile on her face. Her hair looks a little messier than it did earlier, and her cheeks are flushed, so he’s pretty sure she was enjoying herself. Of course, he had to go and find the one seventeen-year-old out there that’s into voyeurism. Jesus Christ.  
  
It’s getting increasingly harder to justify why he has to wait until her birthday to have her. That kind of seems unfair.  
  
“Nice acting,” she says, playing with the tie on his robe when he gets close enough for her to reach. “Was that all for me?”  
  
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not everything is about you.”  
  
The look on her face lets her know she very much doubts that. He’s already wondering about ways to get her out of here when she surprises him by getting up and walking towards the door.  
  
He can’t help himself, okay? He really needs to know if she was touching herself.  
  
“Running off so soon?” The question is out of his mouth before he can stop and think about how he should be glad she’s making this easier on him by leaving voluntarily. She stops in her tracks and turns around to face him, her lower lip between her teeth. She looks guilty. “Why are you in such a hurry?”  
  
Now that he’s resigned to his fate, he figures he can tease her a little. What harm could that possibly do?  
  
Her cheeks are still flushed, and now that he’s paying closer attention, he can see her pupils are blown, her eyes almost black. Shit. She was totally about to run to her room and fucking touch herself thinking about him. He can’t _not_ point that out.  
  
A laugh falls from his lips and his grin is menacing. “It’s not gonna feel as good as the real thing, you know?” He walks towards her, then tugs on her dress sleeve to pull her flush against him. Her hands go out to steady herself, latching onto his shoulders, and it’s like she doesn’t trust herself to stand on her own, or something. She looks completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it.  
  
For maybe the first time since they — well, since _she_ — started this fucked up game, he feels fully in charge of the situation, because Lu is just staring at him like she’s waiting for instructions, or permission to leave. The power rush is instant, and even though he literally just fucked someone else, he’s pretty sure he could go again any minute now.  
  
“You’re gonna have to be patient, Lu,” he whispers, his lips brushing her ear and she whines. “Can you wait a little longer?”  
  
She vehemently shakes her head, seemingly in a trance. Her dress is still too short for his liking, but it does provide him with easy access, so he runs a hand down her side, then lifts it up and unceremoniously and reaches down to touch her through her underwear. The lace is absolutely soaked when his fingers brush it, and she literally squeaks a little as she falls forward, she’s that on edge. Poor thing. Her head falls back against his shoulder, and as much as he’d like to be cruel and push her away, he doesn’t think he can.  
  
“Jesus, you’re fucking drenched,” he says, and she whines when he rubs against her a little, kind of going nonverbal. She must be dying to come. “Is this all for me, huh? Were you touching yourself earlier?”  
  
He's still just pressing against her clit through the fabric, not moving his hand, and she shakes her head against his shoulder. “You weren’t? Are you sure?”  
  
He pulls his hand away and she whines again, which he can’t handle. He didn’t need to know what she looks like when she’s this desperate to come; didn’t need to know it somehow turns her from confident seductress into a quivering, dripping mess. It’s really fucking hot.  
  
“I think you’re lying to me,” he says, pushing at her shoulder to get her to look at him. When she meets his eyes, they’re somehow even darker than they were before — she looks absolutely high on lust. “Are you lying?”  
  
She shakes her head again, weak, and he feels a little bad about the whole thing. He got to come, so it’s probably only fair to help her out a little. It’s fine to bend the rules a little, right? He’s not gonna fuck her before she turns eighteen, but he never said anything about using his fingers to do it.  
  
Plus, if she really wasn’t touching herself she definitely deserves to be rewarded.  
  
There’s no need to do this standing up, and her feet must be tired from standing in his closet for so long, so he pulls her with him and sits down on his bed, his back against the headboard, and motions for her to sit between his legs with her back to his chest. She goes all too willingly, and he’s pretty sure this is the longest time he’s ever seen her go without speaking. It’s amusing.  
  
As soon as she’s positioned snug against him, he pushes her dress up again, this time sneaking both of his hands under it, and one of them reaches up to play with her breasts. He was right — she isn’t wearing a bra. When he twists one of her nipples roughly, she whimpers, and he sort of wants to take his time to undress her, turn her around and watch her face for this next part, but he’ll leave that for another day.  
  
He runs his other hand over her lace underwear teasingly for a second, and she shudders against him. God, he loves having her so close to him, loves feeling every tremor and every sharp intake of breath. He’s barely even touched her and she’s already shaking a little. This is gonna be so fun.  
  
Then he finally pushes her underwear aside, running his fingers over her, and groans when he finds her completely smooth. Good. Of course she’s the kind of girl that waxes. He takes his time, teases at her clit a little before finally running his hand down and pushing two fingers into her effortlessly. She moans, and he should probably tell her to be quiet, but he’s enjoying this a little too much.  
  
Christ, she’s already close. He can tell she could probably come just from this, which sounds hot, but then she whines and grits out, “More,” so he obliges, running his other hand down from her cleavage to find her clit. She’s now full-on shaking, wiggling against him with every stroke of his fingers inside of her, with each punishing burst of pressure he puts on her clit and she cries out when he scissors his fingers inside of her, stretching her further.  
  
Seeing someone as high strung as her come undone is going to be fucking amazing, and he doesn’t think he can wait any longer, so he leans down to bite at her ear, then licks the shell of it. “So fucking close,” he whispers, and she moans in agreement. “Can’t wait to feel you come on my cock like this soon.”  
  
She’s got his fingers in a vice grip, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep them moving, but he’s nothing if not committed. The dirty talk is clearly working for her, so he pistons his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace and says, “You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” and of course that’s what finally sends her over the edge, makes her cry out his name like someone is inflicting physical pain on her. She’s so fucking vain, of course she’d be into being complimented like that while he’s knuckle-deep inside her.  
  
He keeps his fingers moving steadily until she slumps back against him and tries to close her legs, and she whimpers when he finally pulls both of his hands away, lets out this sexy little noise from the back of her throat.  
  
For a moment he thinks she might fall asleep on him like this, which would be less than ideal, but then she surprises him by turning around and grabbing his hand, bringing his fingers to her lips. She sucks his fingers dry, then gives him this ridiculously kittenish look and he can’t help but groan.  
  
If he doesn’t make her leave now, he’s definitely going to do something he’ll regret. The only way he can make himself feel even remotely better about this whole thing is by not going all the way through with it while she’s a minor, so she needs to go.  
  
She seems to have found her footing again because she’s no longer looking all that easy to control. When she leans in to kiss him, he opens his mouth for her immediately and tastes _her_ which… Lord have mercy, he really fucking needs to put a stop to this. He’s hard as fuck, and she reaches down to touch him, which he really doesn’t need right now, so he slaps her wrist, then breaks the kiss and pushes her away roughly.  
  
It’s a miracle, honestly, that he’s somehow resisting the primal urge to fucking mount her right now. He’s certainly feeling tempted. She’s giving him a pleading look, and he shakes his head at her. “Get the fuck out of here, Lu,” he says. “I mean it.”  
  
Lu is smirking at him from her spot next to him, her hair now even more of a mess than it already was. “You’re right,” she says, biting her lip. “I’ll go.”  
  
Wait, what?  
  
“Yeah?” He asks, and she fucking grins at him. God, her attempts at reverse psychology always fucking work on him.  
  
She nods sternly, then gets up and fixes her dress a little. “Walk me to the door?”  
  
He watches her walk across the paved walkway and towards the dormitory from his kitchen window, and if he wasn’t already too far gone to care, he’d feel creepy about touching himself as he does.  
  
All things considered, being creepy has never felt so good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *washes self with holy water*


	4. Chapter 4

His phone wakes him up, the ringtone loud and shrill, and he reaches over to squint at it, trying to silence his alarm. It takes his tired brain a few seconds to understand that it’s actually one in the morning, so it’s only been about an hour since he went to bed, and it’s definitely not time for his alarm to go off yet.  
  
This isn’t his alarm at all. Lu is calling him. Why the fuck is she calling him?  
  
“What,” he answers the phone gruffly, voice laced with sleep. “You better be dead in a ditch if you’re calling me this late.”  
  
He knows he’s been spending too much time with her when he can practically picture her rolling her eyes at him. She still hasn’t said anything, and he thinks he heard her sniffle, so he’s mostly hoping she’s okay, and not in any actual trouble, or dead in any actual ditches.  
  
“I’m outside the main gate,” she says quietly, probably in an effort to not draw attention to herself. “You have a key, right?”  
  
It’s a Saturday night, and he had no idea she was even going off-campus for the weekend — not that he’s keeping tabs on her or anything. If she mentioned it, he was probably busy zoning out and staring at her cleavage, or her thighs poking out beneath her criminally tiny plaid uniform skirt or trying hard not to run his fingers through her long, shiny hair to pull on it hard enough to hurt. Chances are she just didn’t mention it — he’s trying to avoid being alone with her these days. He’s pretty bad with temptation.  
  
If she’s outside the school gates, that means she’s completely fucked if he doesn’t let her in — there’s probably a teacher on night duty who’d get called over to unlock it for her if she rang the bell, but she’d have to explain why the hell she’s trying to sneak back onto campus after previously getting permission to leave overnight. It’s late and he doesn’t really have any choice but to go get her.  
  
“Why are you out after curfew,” he scolds, instantly going into full teacher mode, but he’s already stepping into a pair of sweats and grabbing a shirt from the clean pile of laundry on his desk.  
  
Lu takes a deep breath, her voice frustrated when she says, “Can you save me the fucking lecture and just come unlock the stupid gate.”  
  
Jeez — fine. “Walk over to the side entrance by the parking lot,” he tells her, then grabs his keys and closes the door behind him. It’s cold as hell outside, so he hopes she’s at least wearing weather-appropriate clothes. “I’ll be there in five.”  
  
She definitely isn’t dressed for the weather. When he spots her, she’s leaning against the side entrance, wearing a shiny red dress with a scooping, low neckline. There’s a tiara-esque looking headband in her hair, and tall heels on her feet, and he knows he’s supposed to be worried about what the hell she’s doing out here or mad about having her wake him up, but all he can think about is how fucking hot she looks in the red dress.  
  
Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, pushing her boobs together, and there’s a frown on her face and a small canvas bag at her feet.  
  
“Finally,” she says, voice a little too loud for his liking, so he raises a finger to his lips to let her know she better shut up until they’re somewhere where no one will catch them talking.  
  
He unlocks the gate as quietly as he can, a challenge considering its rusty, metal exterior, then ushers her through and closes it again.  
  
“You must be freezing,” he says, glancing at all the uncovered skin on her. He doesn’t really wanna know who she wore this dress for tonight. “Where were you?”  
  
Lu looks over at him as they walk towards campus, a calculating look on her face. “Does it matter?”  
  
He snorts. “Of course it fucking matters,” he tells her, then grabs her by the elbow to get her to look at him. “If you’re gonna make me complicit in all of this by having me sneak you back in, you better tell me why.”  
  
She rolls her eyes — of course — and pushes him away roughly. “I’m not in the mood for this shit, Val.”  
  
Huh, that’s new. Lu is pretty much always in the mood for talking to him, even if she usually does it just to fuck with him.  
  
“Where the hell did you go dressed like that tonight?”  
  
She actually groans. “Here we go again with the slut-shaming,” she sighs, and he shakes his head at her. As if he’d ever slut-shame anyone. Excuse him for not wanting her to dress like this for anyone other than him.  
  
They’re silent for the rest of the short walk. When they’ve almost reached his building and he’s about to just take off for his door, he realizes something. Shit.  
  
“How are you gonna get back into your room?”  
  
Lu blinks a little, then smiles at him the way she always does when she needs a favor. Lord help him.  
  
“I can’t,” she says as the gold necklaces dangling between her breasts are glimmering in the moonlight. He kind of wants to reach out and tug on them, just to see what she’ll do. “But I hear your couch is comfortable.”  
  
Look, he knows he should probably at least attempt to fight her on this, but there’s no conceivable way she could get past the dorm entrance, which has a timed lock. She’d be in trouble, and he kind of wants to keep her out of trouble in case they ever get into any _together_. It’ll be a lot easier to get her off scot-free if her record is pristine. 

He doesn’t say anything, afraid some of the other teachers on campus might have their windows open, instead just silently drags her towards his door. The minute they’re inside, he instantly locks it again. This is so fucking risky. 

“Please tell me you didn’t orchestrate all of this just to sleep on my couch,” he tells her, and she still looks sort of pissed, which is an odd change from her usual seductress routine. He tries to make her laugh when he says, “It’s a fucking shitty couch.” 

She’s apparently not in the mood for jokes. 

“I know it’s hard to believe, but most of my life does not revolve around you,” she hisses, taking the headband out of her hair and throwing it on his kitchen table. Then she steps out of her heels — kind of a shame, he liked having her at eye level — and reaches for the side zipper on her dress, groaning when she can’t quite get it down all the way. 

“I’d help you, but I wouldn’t want to suggest your life revolves around me,” he teases. She looks up to glare at him, and there’s a threat somewhere in that glare so he sighs and takes a step towards her to unzip her dress the rest of the way. 

To his surprise, she doesn’t just let the red fabric drop to the floor. She’s holding it to her chest, looking around for something to put on. “Can you get me some clothes?” 

That’s a dangerous fucking question because he doesn’t really want her to be wearing clothes at all, ideally. Now that her birthday is less than a week away, his resolve is sort of faltering. But she’s acting weird and he doesn’t want to be a creep who takes advantage of that so he nods, then heads to his bedroom to grab a simple white t-shirt for her.

He throws it at her and she catches it one-handed, somehow holding her dress up with the other, so judging from her cat-like reflexes she’s definitely not drunk. He turns away to get them some water, and when he comes back she’s wearing his shirt, which is a little long on her, thankfully covering most of her ass. She’s perched on the couch, her legs crossed at her ankle, and he resists the urge to sit down right next to her and run a hand over her thighs. It’s pretty difficult not to, honestly, because her skin looks inviting; all smooth and shiny and practically begging for him to grab onto. 

He sits down a little further back on the couch instead, close enough to still be able to touch her if he wants to. 

Handing her a glass of water, he waits for her to look up and make eye contact before he asks, “So what happened tonight?” If she’s gonna sleep over, he’s pretty sure he gets to ask. 

Lu sighs, avoiding his prompting gaze. She gulps down some of the water, then scoots closer to put her head on his shoulder. This is definitely the most innocent way he’s ever touched her, so he figures it’s totally fine if he puts his arm around her and plays with the ends of her hair a little — to comfort her, or whatever. He’s not a monster. 

“I went back to the city yesterday to see my parents,” she finally says. “Dad hosted this stupid gala dinner tonight, and of course I had to be there and let him show me off.” 

That takes him back. His parents definitely used to pull shit like this when he was busy being a reckless, fun-loving teenager. “That sounds fun.” 

“Yeah, it was a fucking blast,” she sits up, shaking off his arm in the process, and twists her hair up into a bun. He’ll never understand how girls just have hair ties handy at all times. “My mother is a drunk, my father is a serial cheater, but god forbid I skip these fake ass dinner parties where he pretends we’re the perfect family.” 

“Are you sure we’re not related? Your parents sound a lot like mine,” he jokes, and she just groans, putting her head in his lap instead. “Though my father is the drunk one.”

Lu nods a little, then turns so that she’s facing the ceiling, kind of staring up at him from her spot in his lap. “Does it ever get better?” 

No, it doesn’t, but he can’t tell her that — she seems miserable enough. Trying for diplomatic, he says, “You’ll probably care less when you’re older.” 

“So that’s a no,” she snorts, then frowns at the glass of water next to her. “You should’ve offered me vodka, not water.” 

“Believe me, drinking does not fix these things,” he tells her, thinking back to his teenage coke binges. Oh, to be a foolish, rebellious teen again. His nasal cavity is probably grateful he’s gotten over that habit. All Lu does is stare at the ceiling, a contemplative look on her face. She’s still absolutely gorgeous, but the drastic change in demeanor is pretty scary.  
  
And no, he definitely doesn’t need to be telling her about any of that. No one at school knows anything about his past — he’s not stupid enough to tell any of his colleagues, and the students would have a field day if they found out he used to be into drugs and partying. What he should do is get Lu a pillow and blanket and get away from her. Actually opening up to her and telling her things about himself is risky fucking business that he wants to stay very, very far away from.  
  
It’s late, and she still seems sort of sad and weird and very unlike herself, and he can’t just leave her here like this, can he? She’s freaking him out. He’s gonna make sure she’s okay before he goes back to bed. Tomorrow’s Sunday, so at least they won’t have to worry about her sneaking back into her room to change before class in the morning — it’ll probably be fine.  
  
His definition of what _fine_ might entail has changed significantly since he got involved with her. Sometimes he feels like the dog with the hat in that viral comic strip, sitting inside of a burning house, telling himself everything is fine over and over again.  
  
They’re quiet for a minute, but the silence doesn’t stretch, somehow isn’t awkward. When he finally looks down to make sure she hasn’t fallen asleep on him, he finds her blinking really fast, her jaw clenched tight. “I probably wouldn’t have thrown a fit and taken off in the middle of the night if he hadn’t called me a whore,” she says, her voice so casual and nonchalant, he’s having trouble processing her words.  
  
He frowns. “Your dad called you a whore?”  
  
Lu moves her head out of his lap, sitting back against the couch cushions instead, her feet now in his lap. It’s a pretty dramatic thing to do, to literally move away from him the second he asked a genuine question, but he probably should’ve expected it from her. She oozes dramatic energy.  
  
“I believe his exact words were ‘You’re nothing but a whore, just like your mother’,” she scoffs and doesn’t look up to meet his eyes. “Pretty ironic considering he’s the one fucking twenty-one-year-old interns at work.”  
  
“Jesus,” Valerio runs a hand through his hair. That’s a fucked up thing to say, especially to your seventeen-year-old daughter. “Fuck that.”  
  
Lu nods, pensive, but seems intent on dropping the subject. She smiles at him a little, which is kind of a huge relief.  
  
“No cursing around students,” she jokes, poking his leg with her foot. “Fifteen points deducted from,” she pauses to grin at him. “Hufflepuff.”  
  
“Hey,” he scolds, stifling a laugh. How dare she insinuate he’s a Hufflepuff? “Take that back. I’m a total Gryffinslyth babe.”  
  
At that, she leans forward and puts a hand on his bare arm. The familiar mischievous glint is back in her eye, and while he’s glad to see it, that also means he’ll have to go back to being careful in case she tries anything.  
  
“Did you just call yourself a babe, old man?”  
  
He grabs her hand and pulls her towards him in what could probably be described as a little too forceful of a manner to go with the lighthearted joking. He likes being rough with her. “Did you just call me old?”  
  
Lu smirks and nods, removing her hand from his grasp and using it to leverage herself into his lap, her lips almost brushing his. “You heard me.”  
  
No, fuck this. It’s late, and he’s too tired to hold back, so he pushes her off his lap and gets up before he does something stupid, like kiss her. When he looks over at her, she’s pouting a little.  
  
“Time for bed,” he says. He doesn’t miss the way her ears perk up, a smirk working its way onto her lips. “No. I’m going to bed, you’re staying on the couch.” 

She doesn’t try to fight him on it, which he finds curious. “You’re not even gonna try to persuade me to let you sleep in my bed? Wow, look at you,” he jokes. 

“I don’t think opening birthday presents early is a good omen,” she says, sitting back on her knees. She definitely does it just to make sure her (his) shirt rides up enough for him to catch a flash of her ass, barely covered by simple, lacy panties. “I think we can wait six more days.” 

He’s not sure he can, but he really fucking hopes so. 

** 

He’s had this dream before. In it, he’s in his office, just grading some tests, when Lu walks in, her school uniform slightly altered — an extra button undone on her blouse, maybe a few inches taken off the skirt. She’s wearing stilettos that definitely aren’t appropriate for school, but other than that it’s pretty true to life. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and the entire exchange is definitely straight out of terrible school girl porn he can’t remember watching. It’s the same thing every single time — he tells her she’ll need to be willing to work hard to make up for her bad attitude in class, and dream!Lu gives him this fucking ridiculously pouty, sexy look and literally just drapes herself over his desk, telling him she’ll do _anything_ for a better grade. 

He doesn’t usually wake up from this particular dream to the feeling of Lu’s hands wrapped around his semi-hard cock, literally hovering over him on his fucking bed with a smirk on her face. Maybe he should’ve locked the door last night if he wanted to avoid this sort of thing. He probably shouldn’t have slept naked, either. 

And he’s still half asleep, so he doesn’t think twice before he sighs out her name, running a hand through her hair. She looks encouraged, like she was just waiting for some sort of signal from him, then moves down his body and leans in to wrap her lips around him. 

Well, shit. If he wasn’t hard before, that'll definitely do it. His hands go out to fist her hair instinctively, pulling on it roughly, and she hums around his cock.  
  
What a way to wake up. He’s had worse Sunday mornings. Come to think of it… “Shouldn’t you be at church right now? Confessing your sins?”  
  
Lu looks up at him through hooded eyes, her lips red and stretched and fucking gorgeous around him. She glares at him a little, then does this thing with her tongue, twists her wrist at the same time, and he sort of loses his train of thought. Fuck. How is it possible for this seventeen-year-old to give better head than anyone else he’s ever been with? She’s unreal.  
  
“Fuck, look at you,” he says, then groans when she somehow unhinges her jaw like a fucking snake to take him deeper. “Such a pretty sight.”  
  
She closes her eyes and hums around him, and that’s even hotter — how much she gets off on compliments. He’ll have to keep that in mind. 

Her hair is in a loose ponytail, wisps of it escaping thanks to the way he’s grabbing onto it, and he pulls some of it off her face. Mainly for practical reasons, to keep it out of her mouth, ‘cause she has no free hand to do it, but also because he really wants a clear line of sight. He watches as she picks up the pace, pulling up a little quicker, and he’s resisting the urge to grab her face and fuck up into her. No; he’ll let her do this her way for now.  
  
When she takes him as deep as she can and swallows around him, he curses, his eyes falling closed. She’s straddling his legs as she keeps going, sort of grinding down on his thigh — because of course, as if she could possibly get hotter, she appears to actually be _into_ giving head to the point of getting off on it. She really is fucking perfect.  
  
Running his hand over her cheek, he doesn’t mean to sound creepy when he groans, “Good girl.”  
  
He feels his breathing get heavy, and he sort of stutters out a moan, fisting his hand in her hair a little harder to pull her down onto him. She catches his drift, keeps working her tongue over him as she sets a steady rhythm. He’s close. He should probably warn her.  
  
“Fuck, Lu,” he breathes, because he can’t think of anything more coherent to say now that she’s no longer holding back. She sucks in her cheeks, tightens her lips around him as she keeps her head moving, and he swears he sees stars. He’s either really, really easy to please or she’s a fucking pro at this. Either way... “If you don’t slow down, I’m gonna cum.”  
  
She literally pulls her mouth off of him completely, sits back on his thighs and gives him an exasperated look. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point, you fucking moron,” she says, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, then reaches up to tighten her ponytail again. Before he can react to her little bossy display, she’s leaning in again, seemingly losing herself in the task at hand.  
  
(He’s never gonna tell a girl to stop sucking him off mid blowjob, but that was fucking hot.)  
  
This has been going on for too long — he’s not gonna last much longer, so he stops trying to hold back, just focuses on watching his cock disappear between her lips. It’s such a fucking marvelous sight to see — Lu, with her hair a mess and her cheeks flushed, making these little appreciative humming noises. She looks absolutely wrecked at this point, her lips chapped from the continued stretch, her mouth covered in spit, a slight layer of sweat on her brow. He zeroes in on the way she drags her lips over him, applying just the right amount of pressure, keeping her hand tight around the base of his cock to anchor herself.  
  
Before he knows it, he’s reaching for her hair again, fingers tight against her scalp as he holds her in place and thrusts into her mouth. He swears his vision literally goes white when he finally lets go, coming fast and hard. Lu swallows every last drop, then releases him and licks her lips a little as she grins at him. Fuck.  
  
He’ll blame post-coital haze for the way pulls her into his lap to kiss her hungrily, moaning when she instantly opens her mouth for him. He can taste himself on her tongue and that alone is nearly enough to get him hard again. When he pulls away a little, he watches her chase his lips, a slight pout of confusion on her face, and he laughs, which she doesn’t seem to appreciate.  
  
Running his hands over her hips under her shirt, he grabs her tight and holds her in place, stopping her from grinding down on him like he knows she must want to. Poor thing must be dying for some friction.  
  
“What was that for,” he asks, brushing a stray wisp of hair off her forehead. He means the random wake up call, but she seems to need a minute to comprehend his question. She tries to move her hips again and huffs when she realizes he’s stronger than her; there’s no way she’ll be able to move unless he lets her.  
  
“A thank you for last night,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’m a firm believer in quid pro quo. I don’t like owing people.”  
  
That’s such a _her_ thing to say, he kind of has to laugh. “Relationships aren’t transactional, Lu,” he tells her and she rolls her eyes at him like he’s being naive. “Most people don’t do things for others expecting something in return.”  
  
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” she says, hands ghosting over his chest. It’s kind of fun to see how petulant she gets about always being right. “Everything is transactional.”  
  
“So by your logic,” he leans forward to bite at her neck a little, finally loosens his grip on her hips and laughs when she instantly rubs herself against him. “I shouldn’t eat you out now because you settled a score with that blowjob?”  
  
She lets out this throaty little sound and he smirks against her neck. So much for transactional sexual favors.  
  
“Well,” she murmurs quietly, her hands going out to steady herself on his shoulders. “I’ll owe you one.”  
  
“Yeah, but we can’t have that, can we?”  
  
Lu shakes her head no, then whines like she realizes he’s about to leave her hanging. She’s grinding against his stomach, and he can feel how wet she is through the thin layer of lace between them. The way she frowns like she’s completely at his mercy almost makes him feel a little bad about teasing her, but then he remembers all of the times she tried to make him crack in class by flashing him a little too much leg and giving him those flirty little looks and he decides she can probably handle it. She deserves to be teased.  
  
But he can probably kiss her a little. That’s fine.  
  
He can tell she’s getting more and more antsy, and he definitely needs to put her in her place after the way she woke him up, so he finally pushes her aside, gets up and puts on his robe. When he looks over at her, she’s got this sad little look on her face, and it’s almost enough to make him change his mind. Almost. (God, how is anyone supposed to say no to her when she’s looking at them like _that_?)  
  
She runs a hand down her stomach, looking at him like she’s gauging his reaction to that and he shakes his head no and shrugs. “Go ahead.”  
  
Her hand dips a little lower, brushing the lace of her panties, and she pouts. “But…”  
  
Yeah, he knows it’s cruel. It’s not easy to stay across the room and watch her finally slip a finger inside herself. She lets out a quiet moan and he almost fucking loses it. Fucking tease.  
  
She needs to be taught a lesson, though. He can’t have her thinking she holds all the power here.  
  
“Val, please,” she says, and he can see she’s got two fingers firmly curled inside of herself now as she gives him a pleading look.  
  
He takes a step closer and grins at her meanly when he thinks of the perfect comeback. “See, this is what you get for calling me a Hufflepuff.”  
  
When he walks out of the room and closes the door behind himself, he hears her audibly scoff and grins to himself. He can’t believe he actually pulled that off.  
  
Lu comes out of his bedroom a few minutes later, looking distinctly flushed and sort of angry. He fucking loves that look on her. He doesn’t love how she isn’t wearing underwear; that part is a little distracting. She breezes past him and reaches into the overnight bag she’d dropped by his door last night, pulling out a pair of jeans.  
  
“I’m keeping the shirt,” she says, determined and he holds up his hands in defeat. He’s got about five other identical white t-shirts so she can definitely have this one.  
  
He watches with interest as she runs a comb through her hair, then pulls it up into a pretty, perfect bun with little to no effort. Then, she finds a pair of sunglasses in her bag and puts those on too. He grins at her in amusement and she glares at him, pushing the shades down on her nose.  
  
“What,” she says. “If I want people to believe I just got back from my parents’ place after a rousing party, I’m gonna need to at least pretend I’m hungover.”  
  
She’s got this all figured out, apparently, which is great because he hadn’t even thought about how suspicious it might look if she walked into her dorm all perky and well-rested. It’s reassuring to know she’s this detail-oriented — he’s sure that’ll come in handy the next time they sneak off somewhere.  
  
“Don’t get into any trouble,” he tells her when she’s got her back to him and her hand on the door.She actually turns around and shakes her head at him, like a promise or something. Cute.  


After she’s gone, he finds her panties on his bed and sighs as he sniffs them like the fucking perv he is. And because he’s apparently turning into a little bit of a predatory creep, he opens his bedside table drawer and throws them in there, catching sight of the other pair of underwear she previously left for him in the locker room. 

He’s literally got a drawer dedicated to her dirty underwear — so that’s how his life is going, thanks for asking.  
  
**

Most of the next week is a blur. He stays away from Lu as much as he can, and she seems to be similarly apprehensive of spending time alone with him. Chances are they’re both painfully aware of how easy it would be to just ignore the technicalities and get naked. 

On Tuesday, he overhears her talking to Carla about birthday plans and instantly perks up his ears. Biology class is about to start, and the girls are early. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, of course. ( _Of course_.)

“So what are you doing for your birthday?” 

He sees Lu grin at Carla and it makes him nervous — she better be getting ready to lie. 

“My parents said something about going into the city, so I’m guessing they have dinner plans.”

“That sounds lame,” Carla decides. Lu nods, then shrugs as she briefly looks up to meets his eyes. 

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It sucks.” 

Nice. At least she’s covering their tracks. 

Her birthday is on Friday, so when he walks into class on Thursday and sees Carla sitting in the back row with a tray of cupcakes on her desk, he’s confused. She’s early, clearly on purpose, and walks over to him.  
  
“Lu’s birthday is tomorrow, but since it’s a public holiday I—“ He tunes out the rest of what she’s saying. Holy shit. How did he not realize Lu's birthday is on the 12th of October AKA Spanish National Day until now? Fuck. Even fourteen years in Spain don’t mean he’ll ever remember that. He shakes off the confusion and tries to focus on what Carla is saying. “So do you mind?” 

He really hopes all she did was ask if they can eat cupcakes during class, because he definitely wasn’t listening to her. “Not at all, go ahead,” he smiles, then gets out his phone to text Lu before the final bell.  
  
 _are you going back to the city for your birthday?_  
  
As if on cue, she walks in the second he hits send, then sort of slyly smirks at him when she glances at her phone as she sits down next to Carla.  
  
He’s really, really hoping she’s staying on campus. With it being a long weekend, most teachers and students will be going away, so they wouldn’t even need to try very hard to sneak around. God, it’s like the stars aligned and Columbus decided to discover America on this very day just so he could fuck her in peace. Luckiest coincidence ever.  
  
She texts back _nope_ , followed immediately by _hope you didn’t make other plans_ and fuck no, he doesn’t have plans. This is gonna be the best fucking weekend ever.  
  
The cute little look she gives him when he asks Carla to come to the front of the room to say a few words and pass around the treats is amusing.  
  
The girl has no idea what she’s in for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the long wait for this chapter... and the further teasing! Next chapter, we'll kick things up a notch!


	5. Chapter 5

On Friday she knocks on his door at exactly 1 pm, her hair pulled off her face in a simple high ponytail, wearing a black shirt and jeans. He looks her up and down as she walks in and grins at her. No frills — he respects that. There isn’t a hint of makeup on her face, and it’s actually ridiculous how pretty she looks all casual like this.  
  
There’s a bag slung over her shoulder, big enough to fit some clothes for the weekend, so she either actually packed a change of clothes or just grabbed it to help with her cover story. She probably won’t need clothes; he’s not planning on letting her wear much of any.  
  
It’s her birthday, so he should probably, like, congratulate her or whatever. It just feels a little too weird to point out; he doesn’t need the reminder that she’s literally barely legal.  
  
The first thing she does is hold up her phone as she turns it off, and he grabs his own and puts it down next to hers on the little shelf next to his door. No more distractions.   
  
Lu smirks at him, then leans in for a kiss. It was probably only supposed to be a quick peck, but fuck, he will never get enough of kissing her, so he deepens it and gasps into her mouth when her hands instantly move to his belt.  
  
No. Not yet. It takes all the remaining willpower he’s got to push her away and ignore the frustrated little glare she shoots him.  
  
Look, he’s as excited about all of this as she is, but there are a few formalities he wants to get out of the way. Just to be sure.  
  
“Where’s your roommate this weekend?”  
  
He’s asking to make sure no one’s gonna miss her when he doesn’t let her leave his apartment for the next three days. She must know that, because she just grins and shrugs her shoulders, then walks past him to drop her little overnight bag off in his bedroom.  
  
“She’s in the city visiting her parents,” Lu says nonchalantly, coming to lean against the wall next to his bedroom door. “Just like me,” she grins. He loves how much of a kick she seems to be getting out of lying.  
  
Well, good. That sounds promising.  
  
“Remind me who you’re rooming with again?”  
  
Lu makes a face and rolls her eyes. “Marina.”  
  
What a match. He can’t imagine the two of them getting along and he’s glad Marina isn’t around this weekend. She’s definitely nosy — nosy enough to ask questions. Speaking of questions, he’s just thought of one for Lu. “Wait, didn’t you fuck her brother?”  
  
She scoffs, “It was one time,” crossing her arms in front of her chest. There’s a slight pout on her lips as she takes a step closer to him, and he swears he’s going to die if he doesn’t get his hands on her soon because she looks up at him all petulant and defiant and says, “And only because you wouldn’t.”  
  
This girl — this woman — is gonna be the fucking death of him. He takes a step towards her to run a hand down her arm and chuckles a little when she shivers.  
  
“Are you hungry?”  
  
She shakes her head and groans all impatient and annoyed, then reaches for the hem of her shirt and tries to pull it off, but he grabs her hands before she can. “You don’t get to take off your own clothes,” he says and she whines. Drama queen.  
  
“Fine, can we stop playing 20 Questions and hurry this along, then?”  
  
“Patience is a virtue,” he grins as he plants his hands on her hips.  
  
She doesn’t seem to think that’s funny, but, like, whatever. It is. Seeing her squirm under his gaze is fucking hilarious.  
  
“I’ve _been_ patient.”  
  
He doesn’t let her desperation faze him. “So ask me nicely.”  
  
“Are you really gonna make me beg on my birthday?”  
  
Oh, she’s so entitled, so used to getting her way. She seriously thinks she’ll get to call the shots. He can’t have that.  
  
“I’m gonna make you beg whenever I want, sweetheart.”  
  
For a whole ten seconds, she just kind of stares at him, and he thinks maybe he’s gone too far with the pet name — it sort of makes him sound like a creepy old man. It takes him a minute to realize she’s waiting for him to do something, that she wants him to initiate this. He’d laugh if the atmosphere wasn’t this sexually charged. She’s _nervous_.  
  
After weeks of teasing, weeks of almosts and sort-ofs, she looks… apprehensive? No… On edge, maybe that’s a better term for it. It’s pretty adorable, honestly, and there’s no rush. They’ve got all weekend.  
  
Fuck yeah. They’ve got _all weekend_.  
  
“I got you a cake,” he says, and she flashes him this really pretty smile. “And a present.”  
  
That definitely gets her attention. “What did you get me?”  
  
“Jesus, you’re bad at this,” he says as he walks over to the couch and motions for her to sit down. “See, the whole point of presents is people wrap them and you don’t know what’s in them. It’s called a surprise.”  
  
She rolls her eyes playfully, then sits up on her knees a little like she’s excited, and this is probably already his favorite day of the year. She just looks so psyched — it’s fucking adorable.  
  
And yeah, he’s a little bit of a people pleaser. The cake he ordered was specially made for her in the city, and he’s honestly still surprised that cake can be shipped these days — the wonders of modern technology. It’s a vanilla sponge cake with vanilla buttercream frosting and he got it ’cause she mentioned she isn’t a chocolate person and he actually listens to her sometimes, alright? There are no candles to blow out, but he still tells her to make a wish when he hands her the slice, so she closes her eyes, then blinks at him and smirks as she takes a bite of her cake.  
  
She moans when she tastes the frosting and he gives her a look. “What? I don’t usually eat carbs. Let me have my moment.”  
  
It’s her birthday, so he bites his tongue, but Jesus, she really shouldn’t be restricting her carb intake so much during track season. He’s her fucking coach; he can’t afford to lose one of his best athletes right before meets start, so he’s allowed to be worried.  
  
“This cake is great,” she says.  
  
“Would be better if it was chocolate frosting.”  
  
She stretches out a leg and kicks him in the side. “What’s wrong with vanilla? I love vanilla.”  
  
He snorts. There’s no way she connected the dots, but he really needs her to stop saying the word vanilla. “You don’t strike me as vanilla.”  
  
She actually giggles, full-on throws her head back as she does, and he’s literally fucking enamored, or something. Did she slip him drugs? Is he going insane? He needs her to stop being this fucking gorgeous.  
  
Anyway. She's got her legs pulled up onto the couch, her body angled towards his and he takes the empty plate from her hands the second she’s done with her cake. She leans her head against the back of the couch, smiles at him again, and when he reaches out a hand to touch her hair the smile fades from her lips, replaced by a somewhat pained expression. “Please.”  
  
“Please _what_ ,” he asks, already scooting closer to her, and yeah, he’s just teasing. She looks frustrated enough to throw an actual tantrum, which sounds hot, but he’s probably made her wait long enough. Without waiting for an answer he kisses her. Mostly because he can't fucking _not_ kiss her anymore.   
  
He already knew what kissing her was like but shit, knowing he won’t have to stop this time? Makes it even fucking hotter. Lu still kisses like the most eager little thing, somehow manages to be confident and dominant but oh-so restrained at once. She sits up further and moves into his lap, then whines into his mouth when she instantly grinds down and feels him already half-hard for her.  
  
Why the fuck are they on his couch right now when he could be spreading her out for him on his bed? He has no clue, but he figures he can just change that. She’s tiny and weighs literally fucking nothing, so he effortlessly holds her to him as he gets up and she instantly gets what he’s doing so she wraps her legs around his waist for support.  
  
“What about my present,” she says on a breath when he breaks the kiss to open the door to the bedroom.  
  
“Later.”  


If she has any objections to that, she doesn’t let on. He bends forward to carefully sit her down on the edge of his bed, and she untangles her legs from his hips. She’s just sort of staring up at him as she sits at eye level with his crotch, her eyes basically black, and god damn it, he needs to be touching her. 

Getting back up later to get undressed seems impractical, so he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head. When he looks back at Lu, she’s pouting a little, reaching up her hands to grab onto his belt loops. “I don’t even get to undress you?” 

Well, if she’s gonna ask him like _that_... he motions for her to go ahead, and the sly little grin of concentration on her face as she pulls down his zipper and pushes his pants off his hips is both adorable and really, really hot. He steps out of his pants, then laughs when she reaches for his briefs. 

“Not yet,” he warns. If she thinks he’s just gonna get her naked and fuck her on the spot, she’s in for a treat. “Put up your arms for me,” he says, and she obliges instantly, so he pulls her shirt over her head. He sits down next to her, then pushes her to move up the mattress to make quick work of her jeans. 

She’s left in a matching set of black underwear — it’s lacy and she looks fucking hot, but he likes the simplicity of the ensemble. He’s glad she didn’t feel the need to wear elaborate, uncomfortable lingerie for him; it’s not like she’ll be wearing it for very long. He loses his train of thought and just sort of stares at her for a moment, watches her chest heave with every breath she takes until she finally groans out his name like she can’t wait any longer. 

He’s really gonna have to teach her about patience. Not today, though. 

“Val, for fuck’s sake,” she grits her teeth, and alright, _fine_ — he sets a leg on either side of her and crowds her against the mattress, grinning down at her. He puts most of his body weight on her, which she seems to like, but she’s still glaring at him. “You’re so fucking annoying,” she says, and he can feel her breath on his face, that’s how close they are. He can probably stop teasing her and give in now. 

He finally leans in to kiss her, really kiss her, and it takes her about two seconds to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She’s biting down on his lip, moaning into his mouth wantonly, and if he wants to have any chance at not just forgetting all about foreplay and fucking her like there’s no tomorrow, he needs to move _now_. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, she whines, but then he’s reaching for the clasp on her bra, takes it off and instantly covers her breasts with his hands as he kisses down her neck, which she seems to have no objections to. Normally, he’s pretty into marking women up, but he can’t really do that with her, can he? Look at him, being all considerate and shit, even though he feels like he has about one remaining working brain cell right now. He still sucks a tiny little red mark into the underside of her breast — unless anyone else gets to see her like this, she’ll be able to cover that up. (She better not let anyone else see her like this.) 

Her tits are firm and round and perfect, the ideal size to fill his hands as he cups them, and he’d love to play with them further but that can wait. He has a plan. He kisses down her stomach instead, tucks his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulls them off of her hips, then sits back on his knees to admire the view. She looks flushed and impatient and really fucking beautiful. He should probably tell her that, since she’s obsessed with getting praised, from his limited experience. 

“You look fucking amazing like this,” he says, and she predictably stutters out a moan. “All naked and ready for me.” 

She nods weakly like she can’t even bring herself to speak, just props herself up on her elbows to look at him impatiently.  
  
Leaning forward, he licks into her without warning and grins against her a little when her hips fly off the bed and push up against his mouth. That’s hot, but he can’t have her moving around and fucking up his rhythm, so he use an arm to press down hard on her stomach, puts enough weight on it to keep her locked in. 

He kind of expected her to be more talkative, honestly, but she goes completely nonverbal aside from these hot little moans and whines she lets out. It’s not like he can really talk while he’s going down on her, but she doesn’t seem to need any narration of events to get ridiculously worked up. The sound she makes when he sucks on her clit as he pushes two fingers into her goes straight to his cock. He’s focused on getting her off right now, but god, he can’t fucking wait to feel her clench around him like this.  
  
“Val,” she says, fitting a hand in his hair and pulling on a few strands. “Can you stop—,” she interrupts herself to moan when he moves his fingers a little faster than before. “Stop fucking teasing me.”  
  
Truthfully, he wasn’t even consciously trying to tease her; she’s just an impatient brat who’s used to getting her way. But alright; if she wants more, he’ll give her more.  
  
It’s definitely more than she bargained for, if the noise she makes when he pushes a third finger into her is any indication. But she asked for this, so he just gets back to business, moves his fingers in time with the strokes of his tongue on her clit.  
  
He’s really gonna have to talk to her about at least trying to be quiet the next time (fuck, there better be a next time) they do this when there’s other students and faculty on campus. For now, he lets her be loud. She’s begging — for what, he isn’t sure — just says, “Please,” again and again as she writhes under him and really, he couldn’t deny her if he tried.  
  
When she finally lets go, she squeezes every muscle in her leg involuntarily, like her body is trying to push him away but he holds her open for him and doesn’t stop his ministrations until she’s physically pushing at his hair, trying to get him to stop. He pulls back, wipes his chin on the back of his hand and smirks at her.  
  
“Fuck,” she breathes out, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. That’s a great way to get him to feel smug about all this, so he sits up on his knees and moves over her, lying down right by her side in the process. Her eyes are still closed, and she kind of just looks really, really pretty like this, all flushed and spent. He runs his hand over her arm, moves it up to her chest and she shivers, then finally opens her eyes to look at him.  
  
“Why are you staring at me,” she teases, and he grins, moving a hand down to adjust his uncomfortably tight boxer briefs. She follows the movement with her eyes and licks her lips a little which… Did he mention she’s literally the hottest fucking woman ever?  
  
She should be on top of him, he decides. There’s no reason for them to be side by side. He pulls her closer, sort of drapes her over himself and finally answers her rhetorical question. “Why wouldn’t I be? Look at you.”  
  
That seems to bring her out of whatever daze she was in, because she moves with newfound purpose, just sits up and lifts herself up so she’s straddling him. He can feel her hot and wet through his briefs as she grinds down on him and yeah, okay, he needed to fuck her, like, yesterday. He really doesn’t want to wait any longer.  
  
He kisses her because he kind of wants to, then holds her up enough to somehow wiggle out of his briefs, which really isn’t ideal but he doesn’t want to stop touching her. He’ll take them off the rest of the way later. The second they’re skin to skin, she gasps and grinds down on him harder than before and it takes all the restraint he can muster to not just grab her hips and pull her down onto him.  
  
“Lu,” he says, groaning when she reaches down to wrap her dainty little hand around him. She tries to line him up but as much as he’d like to just fuck her bareback, he’s smarter than this. He has to grab her hips to hold her in place. “Grab a condom.”  
  
She whines, literally cries out, like he’s being mean. He can’t handle her, this is actually too much. Too fucking hot.  
  
“I’m on the pill,” she says, then tries to grind down on him. He keeps her still.  
  
Sighing, he shakes his head. “Still.”  
  
There’s a pout on her lips, which is ridiculous, and then she actually says, “Please,” like he’s making life miserable for her by insisting they have safe sex. 

“No,” he says, then grabs her and turns them around so he’s on top. He sits back on his knees briefly to discard his briefs for good, then moves to crowd her against the pillows again. She kisses him like she’s trying to distract him, which definitely works and she can definitely tell because he feels her smile into the kiss a little, like she knows she’ll get her wish. “Lu, come on, no.”  
  
“But it’s my birthday,” she pleads, and as if that wasn’t enough to convince him, she adds, “And I want to feel you.”  
  
She always knows just what to say. (God, she can’t just _say_ shit like that to him…) It’s enough to get him to sigh all loud and dramatic, because fine, he’s definitely clean, and she seems like the sort of crazy perfectionist who’s on top of things like that, so… What harm could it possibly do?  
  
He kisses her again, then runs his length up her wet opening before pushing into her so slowly it almost hurts. Well, it almost hurts _him_ because she’s gripping him like a fucking vice. She lets out a surprised moan like she wasn’t expecting him to go for it. She should know by now that he’ll literally do anything if she just asks nicely; it’s probably a good thing she hasn’t realized that. 

Anyway. Right now, he’d love nothing more than to just fuck her hard and fast and dirty, but he kind of wants to savor this. The moment he finally threw all of his morals out the window for good and fucked one of his students probably deserves to be celebrated, ideally with multiple orgasms for her.  
  
Her lips are pressed against his neck, mouth falling open, and she lets out a moan from the back of her throat. He thinks she's trying to be quiet, which she really doesn’t need to be, so he thrusts into her a little further to get her to be louder. (Works like a charm.) He's just barely moving, and every time he pushes in a little more, she holds him tighter.  
  
When he finally buries himself inside her the rest of the way, she lets out this sexy high pitched scream, so she must be over the whole trying to be quiet thing. Good. He wants to hear her.  
  
And fuck, this is already so, so good. So much better than he thought it would be, not that he expected it to be bad. But fantasy dream sex is a pretty high bar to set. That bar was surpassed the second she wrapped her legs around his hip to urge him on. She’s ridiculously responsive, which he absolutely loves — maybe he just hasn’t had good sex in a while. He has no idea how he’s gonna last long enough to make this worthwhile for her. 

She tries to talk, which is admirable, but all he can make out is his name and a few other words as she whispers something about wanting _more_ and _yes, like that_ and _fuck_. Her words become mostly unintelligible as he fucks her harder, and he’s sure she’s not even aware of what she’s saying, she’s so worked up.

He groans when she nips at his earlobe with her teeth, and he can hear her breathing all ragged, and holy fuck, how did he ever think he could ignore this? All the flirting has been a lot of fun, but actually fucking her? Insane. Fucking unreal.

She’s got a few tricks up her sleeve, like when he tries to draw this out and slows down his pace and she clenches around him on purpose to fuck up his plan. He loses his bearings for just a second, then regains his composure and sets a slow, steady rhythm, so he wins that round. 

Then there’s that thing she does with her hands where she runs them up and down his spine, adding just a tiny bit of pressure as she goes along, and that _really_ trips him up. He still makes her come, hard, so her attempts at distracting him obviously didn’t work. He has no idea why he feels the need to _beat_ her at sex; she just adds a weird competitive edge to everything, and honestly? He kind of loves it. There’s nothing he loves more than sex and winning. Combining the two? Fuck. It’s like she’s reading his mind.  
  
The way he’s already sure he won’t be able to give her up again now that he’s had her once might come back to bite him in the ass someday.

Speaking of biting, she’s currently got her teeth buried in the skin of his neck, breathing hard as she recovers from her orgasm. That’s hot, but he can’t afford to show up in class with bite marks on his neck on Monday, so he grabs her roughly to get her to stop.  
  
He gives her literally no time to recover from her first orgasm as he speeds up his movements, and he can tell she’s totally gonna be able to come again any minute now, so he somehow figures out the logistics of reaching down a hand to rub at her clit while he keeps his thrusts up, and before he knows it she’s clenching around him again, tighter than before. She sounds even more wrecked this time around, and hearing her moan out his name is what finally pushes him over the edge as well.  
  
She pulls him down for a wet, lazy kiss and he probably would’ve fallen forward anyway, what with the way he feels like he’s literally going to pass out any second now. He’s still inside her, and he can feel the aftershocks of her climax, which feels really fucking good. Without trying to be dramatic, he’s pretty sure that was the best sex he’s ever had. Maybe it was all the build-up, or the fact that this whole thing is inappropriate and forbidden — he has no clue.  
  
He laughs at the way she whines when he pulls out, then rolls off her to grab some Kleenex from his nightstand. It’s pretty hot to watch his cum leak out of her, but he figures she’ll appreciate if he cleans her up a little. She whimpers when he brushes her clit with the tissue, clearly still sensitive, and he smirks up at her. Yeah, he’s proud of how quiet she’s being and how completely fucking ravaged she looks.  
  
It’s like he fucked all those big words right out of her head.  
  
Throwing the Kleenex over onto the nightstand, he slips under the covers and pulls her closer. She throws her arm over his chest and tangles her legs with his, and when she breathes in deep and hums all content, he genuinely fails to feel even an ounce of regret for going through with this.  
  
Turns out fucking one of his students may have been the best idea he’s ever had.  
  
**  
He wakes up when the sun is just starting to set outside, the last few rays of sunshine reaching through the slatted blinds. Lu is asleep with her back to him, her bare ass pressed against him, and he’s kind of resisting the urge to pull her closer and wake her up by touching her in all the right places. Come to think of it…  
  
His arm is already resting right below her breasts, so he just moves his hand up slightly to pluck at her nipple and laughs quietly when she moans lowly in her sleep but doesn’t wake up. Even in her sleep, she’s responsive as fuck. He’d feel creepy doing this while she’s asleep, but she’s pushing herself closer to him already, so she’s clearly very into this on some level.  
  
He doesn’t even realize she’s awake until she sneaks a hand up and grabs his wrist tight, and then before he can think of a clever thing to say, she somehow turns around, pushes him onto his back and climbs on top of him. He could’ve stopped her, ‘cause she weighs, like, maybe 90 pounds and he’s a lot bigger than her, but he really wants to see what she’s trying to do here.  
  
She’s got both of his wrists pinned above his head, and the sheets are falling down around her waist. It’s quite a sight to see — a little too good to be true, honestly. Give him two more minutes of looking at her like that and he’ll be ready to go for round two. There’s some sleep in her eye and her hair has come loose from the ponytail it was in. She’s got this cute little smile on her face as she looks down at him and he has no idea what to do about this; about the fact that he keeps using adjectives like cute and adorable and amazing to describe her in his head. That’s a problem.  
  
It’s a problem for another day. Lu moves her hands from his wrists and props herself up on his chest instead, then leans down for a kiss. It’s just a quick peck, and then she’s pulling away, smiling at him as she whispers, “Hi.”  
  
Okay, that’s really cute. She looks all sleepy and happy and sated and he kind of has to kiss her just to gain some time to decide how to respond to that. She goes willingly, chases his lips when he pulls away again, and he honestly feels a little too good, considering the circumstances. He kind of thought he’d get her out of his system and feel dirty about this for the rest of his life — that’s definitely not in the cards so far.  
  
Kissing her cheek, he asks, “Sleep well?”  
  
She nods, then leans forward and folds her arms under herself so she’s literally just lying on top of him. It feels nice, and they have absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day so he wraps an arm around her and smiles. 

He’s just sort of drawing circles on her lower back, on the brink of dozing off again when he hears her stomach rumble. True — they should probably talk about dinner plans, even though he has no clue what time it is. 

“Do you wanna eat something?” For all he knows, she probably only had that small slice of cake today, and they burned a lot of energy earlier — refueling is important. 

Leaning forward to peck his lips, she nods. If she was really that hungry, she probably shouldn’t have reminded him how much he likes kissing her. He runs his hand up to her neck, pulls her closer and goes in for a real kiss. She has a real talent for using just the right amount of tongue to leave him wanting more, and he comes away from the kiss with his head spinning a little, completely zeroed in on the fact that he can feel her getting wet just from this when she pushes her hips down against his. 

“Food can wait,” she says between kisses, and he’s pretty relieved to hear it. He’s hard as fuck and definitely wants to fuck her again. He reaches for her hip and attempts to turn them around, but she uses all her body weight to hold him down. Shaking her head as she bites her lip, she reaches down to palm him, smirks a little when he groans, and then wastes no time pushing herself onto him. “Like this,” she moans as she grinds down on his cock, and all he can do is nod. As if he’d ever object to a hot girl riding him. 

She does this figure-eight thing with her hips, and he lets out a guttural moan. She’s literally unreal. He’d feel bad about letting her do all the work if she didn’t look so comfortable on top of him if she didn’t clearly love being in charge.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says without thinking, because he can’t really think at all right now, and she clenches around him in response. He’ll definitely have to explore her little praise kink further. “Look down,” he tells her and she does, moaning a little when she catches sight of him disappearing inside of her over and over again. “So fucking tight for me.” 

He’s a big believer in sharing the workload, so he grabs her hips and starts pulling her down onto him as he thrusts up, moaning at the new angle. She throws her head back and he really doesn’t know where to look — at the way her tits are bouncing with every thrust, or at the perfectly round O shape her mouth makes as it falls open, or further down, where his cock is covered in her slick as he steadily moves in and out of her. The combination of those things is really doing it for him. 

“Best birthday ever,” she murmurs after, her head resting in the crook of his arm, and he kisses the crown of her hair and nods. 

**

She’s in his kitchen wearing nothing but the black T-shirt she came here in and her underwear, sitting with her legs dangling from the counter as he tries to convince her that he’s totally capable of making her dinner. 

“There’s no way you know how to cook,” she says, and he feigns offense, just walks over and fits himself between her legs to tease at the hem of her shirt. “You don’t look like someone who knows how to cook.”  
  
He laughs. She’s such a ridiculous person. 

“What does that even mean?”  
  
She runs a hand over his bare chest (clothes are overrated) and gives him a sly smile.  
  
“It means,” her hand wraps around his neck to pull him closer. “That there’s no way you’re capable of making anything sophisticated enough to satisfy my palate.”  
  
He had forgotten just how much of a private school brat she is for a minute there. They’re both mostly naked, so he sees no reason to hold back when he thinks of the perfect dirty joke.  
  
“I can think of something to _satisfy_ your palate,” he grabs her hand and moves it down to his briefs. She groans at his stupid joke, then pushes at his chest and jumps off the counter.  
  
“Come on, we’re ordering pizza,” she says and grabs the menu of the only Italian place in this tiny little town that does delivery off his fridge. “You can cook for me some other time.”  
  
He likes the insinuation that they’re gonna spend more time with each other, so he lets her pick out pizza toppings and calls to put in their order.  
  
When they’re lounging on his couch with pizza and beer (him) and wine (her), he grins at her, suddenly remembering the present he got her. “Give me a second.”  
  
He comes back with the wrapped mug and starts laughing the second he hands it over. He can't wait to see how annoyed she'll be when she sees it. She puts her pizza down, tears at the wrapping, and rolls her eyes so enthusiastically, he’s pretty sure it must count as an eye workout.  
  
“You did not get me a mug that says _teacher’s pet_ ,” she giggles, slapping his cheek jokingly.  
  
He shrugs. “If the hat fits….”


	6. Chapter 6

It’s almost a little too normal, how he wakes up to Lu sitting perched at the end of his bed, a cup of coffee in her lap as she checks her phone. She’s wearing a plain white shirt she must’ve stolen from his closet, her hair is up in a messy bun, and she looks way too pretty like this.

None of this can possibly be real, right? He’s seriously wondering how the fuck he got lucky enough to have her in his bed. Well, he knows _how_ it happened — he was there. But, you know... Damn. Lucky coincidence that she walked into his biology class that first day.

Shoutout to those sketchy pedophile priests for getting her kicked out of her last school. Really doing the lords work right there, if you ask him.

She’s texting, then hits play on an audio message and he kind of smiles when he hears the random birthday wishes — she literally turned off her phone and ignored people all day yesterday, chances are that sort of thing doesn’t exactly go unnoticed in the age of social media.

She still hasn’t realized he’s woken up, just keeps sipping her coffee and replying to people’s messages, an intense look of concentration on her face. Her phone rings and she picks it up and puts the call on speaker.

“Happy birthday, Lucrecia,” a male, distinctly adult voice says — this must be her dad. “Or belated birthday, I should say. Did you have a nice time with your friends?”

He stifles a laugh, and she looks over to glare at him, then sits back against the headboard and gives him a scolding look. “Thank you, daddy,” she says sweetly, glancing over at him. He shakes his head and grins — she’s so full of shit, but he’s kind of in awe of her. Lying is second nature to her, and he hopes she’ll teach him her ways. “We had dinner in town and then a few drinks.”

“You’ll have to send over some pictures, your grandparents were asking for them,” she rolls her eyes, and yeah, that’s obviously not gonna happen. She handles it well though, just tells her dad she’ll pick out a few and wraps up the call in less than two minutes.

Jeez. She’s a fucking pro at this.

She smirks at him, reaches out to touch his chest and says, “Daddy, I have to get ready for lunch, I’ve got plans with friends,” and he seriously wonders if she knows how dirty it sounds when she calls her father that. She must, right? 

The second she ends the call, she sets her mug down on the nightstand and jumps him. Well, it’s really just a kiss, but he gets a little too aggressive (there’s no such thing) and she’s into it, so they get carried away before he can say what he meant to say a few minutes ago.

“Lunch plans? Isn’t it, like, eleven?”

She rolls her hips against him, puts her hands on his chest and holds him down. “He just got back from Mexico, he has no idea what time it is.”

When she kisses him again, he figures there’s no reason to ask her what she wants to do today. It’s pretty obvious, if the way she’s angling her hips is any indication.

He’s got no complaints about that.

//

“Let’s get lunch somewhere,” she says sometime later, then swings her legs over the side of the bed and gets up. She’s completely naked, and still sort of flushed and sweaty, and he’s having trouble concentrating right now. “What?”

She’s smirking, so she definitely knows what she’s doing to him. He shouldn’t like that so much; knowing she’s getting a kick out of teasing him.

“Come on, shower time,” she says, beckons him to come closer and yeah, no, he won’t say no to that. It’s bad enough that he’ll have to tell her they can’t get lunch.

He grabs her hip when he comes to stand behind her, leans forward to bite down on her earlobe, and she’s clearly considering just dragging him back to bed — he can tell from the way she leans back against him.

He slaps her ass hard, then shoos her towards the bathroom. “We don’t have all day,” he says, even though they absolutely do. It’s great.

When they finally make it out of the shower, her cheeks are flushed from more than just the hot water, and she giggles when he tries to stop her from changing into a clean pair of workout leggings from her little overnight bag. (He wants to joke about her wearing lululemon, but the name pun feels a little too on the nose.)

“I said no clothes,” he says, and she shrugs as she pulls them up her hips. She didn’t bother with underwear underneath, said something about it being impractical, and he’s kind of worried he’ll lose it during track season now that he’s heard her explain the mechanics of built in underwear in women’s workout gear. From what he could gather, it comes down to her basically not wanting to deal with the friction — that’s it. That’s the whole explanation.

There’s no way he won’t spend every practice from here on out staring at the outline of her ass. She’s not wearing any fucking underwear — he doesn’t give a shit about the reason for it. _Hot_.

“We’re leaving the house, I can’t be naked for that,” she grins, pulling him closer by the towel that’s currently wrapped around his waist. “Get dressed.”

He sighs. “Lu, we can’t do that,” he tells her, genuinely confused at her naivety. She’s smart enough to know they can’t be seen together.

She puts on a bra, then pulls on her shirt from earlier in the day and strikes a pose. “Okay, did you seriously think I meant we should get lunch in town? Please, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Of course she isn’t. He didn’t really doubt that for even a second. But...

“What’s the plan, then?” He asks, even though he’s already grabbing a pair of sweats and a shirt from his closet — he’s obviously going along with whatever she wants. (If she’s not wearing underwear, he won’t, either. Just because.)

“We’ll go for a drive,” she says. “And then we’ll pick up food and eat in the car somewhere.”

He laughs. “Romantic.”

The way she rolls her eyes before she quickly pecks his lips shouldn’t be adorable but it is. “Suck it up, Romeo. It’s my birthday—,” he opens his mouth to correct her. “—weekend. It’s my birthday weekend, so I get to decide.”

“You know you don’t get a whole weekend, right? Everyone gets one day a year. It’s literally in the name — birth _day_.”

She drags him towards the front door, slips her phone in her bra (why do girls do that? Is it because their pants never have pockets?) and nods for him to go ahead. “I’ll meet you at your car in five.”

Look, this is still kind of a shitty idea, but as far as taking calculated risks, this one is probably okay. As much as he’d like to just keep her tied to his bed all weekend, this is a good idea — a little bit of a change of scenery.

She’s wearing big Chanel sunglasses when she finally slides into the passenger seat and he laughs as he looks her up and down. It’s such a ridiculous contrast, the huge designer shades paired with pink workout leggings and his simple white T-shirt.

“Where to, Milady?”

She opens Maps on her phone, then turns up the radio and loudly sings along to whatever random old school Britney song is playing and he kind of likes this. Her, all stripped down and casual and at ease.

He should probably start worrying about finding a way to stop that.

//

“I can’t believe you made me drive forty minutes for a salad.”

They’ve stopped next to a random lake twenty minutes from campus, though the salad place she directed him to was basically hours away. 

“What’s wrong with salad? This one’s my favorite,” she’s got her seat pulled all the way back, her legs folded under her, and she’s currently struggling to chew a huge piece of kale. “Hey, take a picture of me.”

He shakes his head adamantly. No pictures. Pictures are what’ll get them caught.

Lu rolls her eyes. “Of _me_ , okay? Just me and my salad. I need my fake friends on social media to think I’m in the Madrid metropolitan area, and this salad is proof of that.”

How does she even come up with these things? She should seriously go into politics and do crisis management or something, what with the way she’s always got a plan for every single situation. She’s basically Olivia Pope levels of organized, except she’s using her talents to cover up the fact that she’s spending her weekend in his bed, not trying to manipulate US election results. He takes her phone from her hands, then makes sure to zero in on her smile and the salad she’s holding for the picture.

She’s wearing absolutely no makeup, not that she needs any, and he’s kind of curious to see whether she’s okay with posting this anywhere. The picture is cute, but she presumably has pretty high standards for social media content. He knows for a fact that Lu holds herself to very high standards when it comes to literally anything.

It only takes her a few swipes of her finger to figure it out — she adds a filter that somehow makes the perfect grin on her lips even more radiant, then puts a little heart emoji next to her goat cheese tofu salad (yeah, she’s fucking weird) and writes ‘hbd to me’ in the tiniest font to round out the post. It’s impressive to watch how it takes her no time at all to put this together. He’s not on Instagram, but if he was he’d now be thinking about how fake and misleading all of it is.

“There, great,” she says, locks her phone and puts it away.

The way she’s literally smiling into her salad as she goes back to eating it makes him laugh.

“What’s with the love for tofu?”

He’s never met anyone who actually likes the stuff; that probably warrants asking the question.

She grins at him fondly, eyes the sandwich he’s eating (he wasn’t gonna have a salad for lunch — as if) and shrugs. “Had some weird nannies growing up. The vegan one left a lasting impression.”

He actually had a similar experience to that, except it’s the reason he still can’t eat fish without picturing little cartoon fishies being slaughtered. Lu snorts when he tells her about that. “Wait, she showed you Finding Nemo and basically said if you eat fish you’re responsible for killing Nemo and his friends?” 

Well, when you put it like that... “My little sister still cries every time she sees animated fish,” he says, and Lu laughs into her salad. “The childhood trauma runs deep.”

She laughs, closes her mouth around a bite of tofu and sinks down in her seat so she can stretch her legs out, puts them up on the dashboard.

“What’s your sister like,” she asks, kind of innocent and unassuming. Talking about his family is his absolute least favorite pastime, but for some reason he finds himself actually wanting to share these things with her, maybe because he knows her family is similarly ridiculous.

“You know, accomplished, married with a kid on the way at twenty-five while somehow juggling a fancy job in private equity with her full time job of sucking up to our parents,” if he sounds bitter it’s because he is.

“Huh,” she says, contemplating his words. “I wonder if this is how my brother feels about me.”

Valerio grins at her, then reaches over and grabs at her thigh to get her to move her feet into his lap instead. “Is he older?” She nods. “Then yeah, definitely.”

“He’s always talking about how he doesn’t want a career and couldn’t care less about being successful... I keep telling him the same thing — that doesn’t make you cool, alright? It makes you poor.”

Kind of a weird flex, but okay, sure. At least she owns up to how much of a snob she is. Lu and his sister would definitely get along.

“As the older brother who felt neglected and settled for teaching when punk rock and drugs didn’t work out for me, I’d just like to gently suggest that maybe,” He runs a hand up her calf to distract her. God, he can’t believe he’s bothering to argue her on this; it just hits a little too close to home. “Maybe people want different things and maybe that’s okay.”

Lu is quiet for a moment, just forks a little feta cube into her mouth and chews as she considers what he said. Finally she nods, eats the last bite of her salad and drops the empty container next to the seat.

“We should have car lunches more often, this is nice,” she says. It sucks, honestly, that they even have to have this conversation. He’d love to take her out and properly show her off but that’s not an option for now. It will probably never be an option, if he’s being honest.

So he nods, smiles at her and goes back to eating his food.

//

Hooking up in the car is her idea. It’s kind of pointless, really — there’s almost no space and he’s got a whole apartment to do this in a few miles from here, but she bites her lip, then sits up to straddle him and he can’t really say no to her. He needs to get better at that.

“Someone could see,” he says, just to test what she’ll say. There’s no other cars parked nearby even though it’s the middle of the day and he’s got tinted windows, so he’s not actually worried, but still. Lu moans, rolls her hips a little and he grabs her ass to pull her closer. She’s so predictable. “Do you want people to see? Is that it?”

The little look she gives him should be illegal. No one should be allowed to look at anyone like that; he’s pretty sure wars have been fought over less. She reaches for the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, then moves back to balance on his knees so she can pull his sweats down far enough to wrap a hand around him. When she twists her wrist, he hisses.

Fucking eager little thing.

“Take these off,” he says, sliding a finger under the waistband of her leggings. She instantly moves back over to the passenger seat, pulls herself up enough to drag the tight material off her legs and she’s back in his lap in no time. Impressive grasp on car sex logistics she’s got there — he’s tempted to ask her if she’s done this before. Jealous rage instantly blooms in his chest, so he figures he’s probably better off not knowing and kisses her instead.

The second they’re touching again, she grinds down against him with the kind of precision he’d expect from a fucking professional or someone much, much older than her. It’d be a lot easier to dismiss this little fling if she wasn’t so fucking good at _fucking_ him.

He slips his tongue into her mouth and drags his knuckles through her folds, bites down on her lip when he realizes how wet and ready she is for him. He’s barely even touched her, but she’s clearly somehow worked up again. Insatiable — that’s what she is. His thumb bumps against her clit and she whimpers, closes her eyes because she’s so needy.

“Always so good for me,” he whispers, putting some more pressure on her clit until she pushes back against him. She’s still wearing that stupid white T-shirt of his and he doesn’t know why so he pulls it over her head, then makes quick work of her bra and smirks at her when she’s finally fully naked for him. “There we go.”

He teases his hands down her sides, making her squirm, and she glares at him.

“Can you—,” she pushes herself closer to him and interrupts herself with a moan when she grinds down, like she’s surprising herself with how good this feels. Always so fucking impatient, this girl. He grins at her, his eyebrow raised as if to prompt her. “Just fuck me.”

His grip on her hip tightens, but he doesn’t budge. “Are you asking?”

It’s apparent he still sometimes underestimates her. She leans forward, kisses him slow and deep and dirty, then reaches between them to line him up. He groans when she sinks down on him with absolutely zero hesitation, and the way she stills her hips and grabs his chin to get him to open his eyes and look at her is fucking hot. “I’m not asking.”

There are still so many ways he wants to have her, take her, ravish her. It’s pretty unfair that this weekend is the most time he’ll get with her maybe ever. But anyway, this probably isn’t the right time to dwell on that. He leans forward to bite at her neck, then licks the shell of her ear and says, “Go for it,” which isn’t really great dirty talk but it gets her to move, finally, so it’ll do.

She sets a steady pace and sticks to it, sort of lazily grinding on him as she’s writhing in his lap, and her perky little tits are bouncing with every movement, practically begging to be touched. They’re right in front of him, which is kind of the best part about lazy car sex like this, so he takes advantage of the position they’re in and leans forward to suck one of them into his mouth as he moves a hand up to cup her other breast.

He doesn’t want to think about how well he already knows her, her sounds and her little movements. They’re hard to forget, so he waits for her to say his name on a breathy whisper like she’s done every time she gets close, and then says, "Tell me what you need," as his lips brush against hers.

She kisses him, messy and desperate and obscene. It’s almost enough to make him forget he asked her a question. He pulls away and grins at her. “Aren’t you gonna tell me,” he prompts, then laughs when she just looks irritated. “About what you want,” he clarifies. “What you need.”

“No,” She clenches around him, then circles her hips excruciatingly slowly as if to tell him she’s in charge around here and he better shut up. “You know.”

Of course he knows. He can practically feel her orgasm building, can tell she’s close and no matter how impressive his stamina might be otherwise, he is embarrassingly close too. There’s a way to speed this up, and the way she instantly grips him tighter when he finally brings his hand down to play with her clit lets him know she’s very much ready to fall apart for him. Thank god. 

She picks her hips up faster, and her movements are becoming more and more frantic until he finally feels her climax hit. She squeezes her eyes shut like she literally can’t take this much pleasure, then sort of falls forward a little, and he moves both of his hands to her hips so he can pull her down onto him again and again, with enough force to keep her gasping until her orgasm has long passed.

The aftershocks are still hitting her and he feels her spasm around him right as he buries himself inside her as far as he can go. That’s enough to finally push him over the edge and his vision goes white with pleasure. A curse falls from his lips, and she brushes some of his hair off his forehead gently. The part of him that literally never wants to stop fucking her is almost disappointed at this being over, though that sweet post coital relief washes over him right away too. He hugs her to his chest, both of them breathing hard and waits for the funky spots on his retinas to go away.

“Let’s drive back,” she murmurs against his neck, then moves back a little and rolls her hips when she leans in to kiss his jaw. “So I can fuck you in an actual bed.”

He couldn’t deny her if he tried, so he doesn’t bother. Chances are she’ll get her way in the end no matter what.

//

Look, he’s in pretty good shape. He runs almost daily and lives on campus where he has about 0.5 adult friends if you count Cayetana, so he spends a decent amount of time in the school weight room, doing sort of an adjusted cross fit routine.

Despite all of this, his core muscles are sort of burning up when they get back from lunch, possibly because Lu teases him and basically tells him she doesn’t believe he’s capable of holding her up while he fucks her up against the wall. Please. Easy.

So he’s mildly tired and ready to just settle in on the couch, but she has other plans. Lu is fucking relentless.

“I can’t just not run for three days, Val,” she says, already slipping her clothes back on. “Let’s just do a slow lap around campus.”

She must be at least as tired out as him, what with all the muscle flexing and bending her legs at unnatural angles she’s been doing in the past 28 hours. Is she insane?

He shakes his head, but she just pouts a little, then shrugs her shoulders. “Fine. I’ll go alone. And if it gets dark while I’m out there and I get kidnapped it’ll be your fault.”

Appealing to his instinctive protective streak is pretty cruel. Apparently he isn’t being as sneaky as he thought he was with that because she’s clearly using it against him right now. Of course he’ll go with her.

He heads to his room to get some gear and sighs. “3k,” he yells over his shoulder. “No more than that.”

When he comes back out and slips on his pair of shorts, she smirks at him, then runs a hand down his arm. “Let’s go for a chill 10k.”

He looks at her like she’s crazy, because she basically is. There’s nothing _chill_ about running 10k. “No way, not happening,” he tugs on her ponytail.

Lu bites her lip and looks up at him. “8k?”

“5k if you promise to not make me run again for the next few days.”

She seems to consider that offer.

“What about practice on Tuesday? I thought you were gonna do the drills with us...”

Oh, whatever. Semantics.

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes. “But no further running between tonight and then.”

She throws his shirt at him and laughs. “Okay, drama queen.”

If he flips her off, it’s only to prove a point. He’s definitely dramatic as fuck when he wants to be.

They end up just collapsing in the field near the basketball courts after a little over 7k, both of them panting. She giggles, and he’d join her but his lungs hurt a little too much.

“See, that was fun,” she says, and it was but also really wasn’t. He was expecting a slow jog; of course she had other plans. Right now, he appreciates that she’s not actually touching him — if anyone happened to see them like this, they could somehow talk their way out of things, not that anyone’s gonna be lingering near the sports grounds in the dark at this time.

“I can think of more fun things,” he says.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got a key to the locker room.”

They shouldn’t. He should tell her no. But ever since he caught her in the showers with her lanky teenage conquest, he’s kind of been thinking about how much better he’d be at that, how foolish she was to try and provoke him. (Even though it worked.)

He wants to show her, so he does.

//

He hasn’t been keeping score, so he can’t be sure how many times he’s made her come in the two days following her birthday, but it’s definitely a healthy amount. There’s no way he’d ever have someone leave his bed feeling unsatisfied, especially not someone he actually likes, and maybe he overcompensates a little for all the times he held back before.

She literally pushes him away in the early morning hours of Sunday night. His hand is splayed on her stomach, inching lower as he’s spooning her, and she just grabs it to stop him in his tracks. The quiet giggle she lets out when he kisses her neck is adorable, even if he has no clue why she’s laughing.

“I need to sleep if you don’t want this to turn into full on necrophilia,” she says, then wiggles back against his chest to pull him closer anyway. Kind of a mixed message she’s sending here, if she really just wants to go to sleep. “If you make me come again it might actually kill me.”

Huh. That’s definitely a challenge he’s up for. She totally fakes pushing him away when he moves so he’s hovering over her, but then her fingers are tangling in his hair, pushing him down her chest and when she comes all over his tongue he’s pretty sure he doesn’t hear a single complaint fall from her lips, so. No one’s dying on his watch.

She lets him make her breakfast in the morning, argues that no one could possibly fuck up scrambled eggs, and he poaches one for her just to prove a point. She looks pretty impressed when he hands her a meticulously plated slice of avocado on rye, a perfect runny egg perched on top of it.

Watching that Tasty video on poaching eggs totally paid off.

“Well, well, well,” she says. “Maybe you’re more than just a pretty face.”

He shrugs as he forks some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Maybe your standards are just really low.”

//

Of course they can’t go anywhere at all on Sunday now that students and teachers alike are flooding back to campus after their little weekends away, so they basically do fuck all for the rest of the day. She convinces him to watch some bizarre teen Sci-fi show with him and much to her delight he’s reluctantly into it.

No matter what they’re doing, they’re always touching in some way. She’s got her head in his lap as they watch TV, and his hand is gently brushing through her hair on total autopilot, or she’ll move towards the end of the couch and put her feet up on his thigh. At one point, she sits down across his lap, but they both very quickly realize there’s no way in hell they’ll be able to keep watching this show if she does that so that’s short-lived.

There are plenty of less innocent touches too, like when he pulls her tank top off her shoulder to bite at her collarbone, or when she lets him bend her over his dining table. Even though they’re confined to his one bedroom apartment, they make the most of the space.

It’s getting late, and while he’d love to keep her here indefinitely, that’s probably not an option. The weekend is basically over; she needs to get back to her room and be seen at dinner with everyone else.

“Did you do your biology homework? I hear the teacher is kind of a hard-ass,” he teases as she’s packing up her things.

She rolls her eyes. “He’s such a try-hard,” she says, poking her tongue out at him. “Always trying to impress everyone by being the lenient cool teacher.”

So what if he pushes her against the wall to kiss her a little? She can’t be insulting his impeccable reputation if she doesn’t want to deal with the consequences.

“I’m totally the resident cool teacher,” he says, mainly because he likes making her laugh when he’s this close to her. Seeing her eyes light up right in front of him is a sight to behold.

She’s just about to leave and walk back to her dorm, now that the sun has set and she can use darkness as her cover, when there’s a knock on his door. They’re standing right in front of it, and she takes a look through the peephole, then glances over at him as if to tell him she’s got this and opens the door. Oh lord.

“Hi Cayetana,” Lu says, confident and effortless, then takes a step towards the door and smiles at her. She looks cunning and ambitious but mostly super fucking innocent — it’s impressive, considering what he knows about how she spent her weekend. “We were just putting the finishing touches on the charity fundraiser for the track team.”

Caye nods and smiles politely, because Lu is an incredible actress. She pulls the whole type A overworked student thing off effortlessly. There’s no way anyone who doesn’t know her as well as he does can tell she’d be the type to go after her teacher.

“I’ll see you in class,” she tells both of them, then murmurs a quick, “Goodbye,” and walks away.

He motions for Cayetana to come inside and wonders why she’s eyeing him warily. It’s not encouraged, obviously, but he’s sure she’s had a student or two over throughout the course of the semester; it sort of comes with the territory of teaching at a boarding school.

“You're lucky it was me at your door and not Azucena,” she says, finally.

He grins. “Why would Azucena ever stop by my house?”

Caye walks over to his couch and takes a seat. He hovers nearby, doesn’t bother sitting down — maybe that’ll make her leave faster.

She looks genuinely concerned when she says, “Valerio, you can’t have students over. You know that’s against the rules. It’s in the code of conduct.”

Is she... jealous? Concerned? Onto them? Fuck.

“The code also says we get to spank them, doesn’t mean any of us do that,” he laughs, and hopefully that terrible joke will throw her off their scent.

“Lucrecia wouldn’t mind, I’m sure,” she says, then clasps a hand over her mouth in shock when she realizes what she just said. “God, sorry, I spent all weekend with my liberal, artsy friends. I’ll need a few hours to switch back into teaching mode.”

That’s honestly pretty funny. Maybe they’d be friends if she wasn’t usually so hellbent on acting like any other boring teacher. The little flashes of personality he’s seen from her were all kind of fun.

He’s pretty sure he knows just what to say to get her off his back.

“I know how to handle a silly schoolgirl crush, okay? Not my first rodeo,” he smiles and she nods. “Now what can I do for you?” 

“Oh, right,” she says, like she forgot the reason she came here until now. “Can I borrow some eggs? I decided to bake tonight and completely forgot you need wet ingredients for that.”

Maybe he’s just tired from a whole weekend of mind-blowing sex, but he really can’t tell whether Caye is making up an excuse or if that’s her actual reason for seeking him out. It might be; she hasn’t tried to touch him once so far. They haven’t hooked up again since that night Lu hid in his closet and he’s pretty sure they never will again.

That’s probably for the best, too, because Lu seems possessive enough to literally strangle any woman that comes near him. It’s kind of hot. It would be hotter if he could actually tell her stupid little boy toy to stay away from her, too. He loves being a possessive asshole with women he dates. Shit, did he just think of her as that? Someone he’s _dating_? There’s no fucking way that’ll work out well for him.

He comes back from the kitchen and hands Caye a whole carton of eggs, wishes her luck with her baking endeavor and sighs when he finally closes the door behind her.

He’s definitely dreading going back to school tomorrow.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone please pray for my dear MacBook, Macy, who is still at the apple store undergoing open heart surgery. once she’s back home safely I might actually update more regularly again!


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Tuesday track practice rolls around, he hasn’t spoken to Lu one on one in almost 48 hours. There have been a few lingering glances in class and some very pointed texts, but that’s it.  
  
He’s not exactly looking forward to practice.  
  
Lu is early, probably precisely because she wants to corner him as he’s sitting on the bleachers looking out at the athletic complex. She sits down close enough for their legs to touch, then casually reaches out a hand and carefully grabs onto his hand where it’s resting on his knee.  
  
“I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”  


Honestly, he’s not sure he wasn’t. They probably both needed a little bit of a break to deal with the reality of having to see each other in class after spending all weekend naked together.  
  
Even though no one’s here yet, he figures the dumbest thing he can possibly do while they’re out here in public is touch her, so he gently moves her hand off his leg, squeezing as he places it in her lap instead.  
  
“Ready for an hour of drills?”  
  
She whines, low, and this is precisely why he’s been avoiding her a little. That whine instantly makes him flash back to her on top of him, in his bed or his car, on the couch, makes him picture things he should not be thinking about right now.  
  
“I’m still a little sore, actually.”  
  
He can’t sit here and talk to her about this. He can’t. The little smirk on her lips lets him know she is very aware of the effect her words are having on him.  
  
Some of the other kids on the team are walking towards them, so he takes that as his cue to jump to his feet. “Well, time to stretch a little, then,” he mutters, grinning at her. He doesn’t miss the way she rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at him.  
  
It’s October, not exactly an ideal time for an outdoor workout, but that sort of comes with the territory if you decide to do track; the kids know they’ll have to suck it up and wear layers. They’re gonna be out here, come rain or shine.  
  
And yeah, he kind of promised the team he’d do the drills with them because he thought it might motivate them. All it does is remind Valerio that he’s definitely not eighteen anymore. Fuck, his knees hurt.  
  
Lu stops next to him after, laughing at how he’s bent over in pain. “Not bad, old man.”  
  
He’s about to say something completely inappropriate when he spots Guzmán grinning at him from where he’s standing right behind Lu. “Yeah,” the pale kid says, putting an arm around Lu’s waist. “Not bad, coach.”  
  
Valerio narrows his eyes at them and hopes everyone around them will chalk it up to him being completely exhausted. Which he is, but also, can that fucking strawberry blonde child maybe not touch her? Fuck.  
  
He sees Marina snicker at them, rolling her eyes at her brother and her roommate, and figures he’ll leave the high school drama to the actual high schoolers.  
  
“Alright, off to the showers you go,” he tells them, feeling glad when his voice comes out sounding somewhat normal. “No more making fun of your poor, old teacher.”  


He watches them walk off and tries not to glare too hard when Guzmán grabs Lu’s hand and she doesn’t instantly let go of it. He’s never been particularly good at sharing.  
  
//

He’s in his office before classes start the next morning when Lu barges in. She locks the door behind herself and pulls down the blinds on the little window, then turns to him and grins. She’s in a skirt he thinks might be too short to be regulation length, her hair is up in a bun, and she’s wearing glasses — he didn’t even know she wears glasses. 

It’s kind of a miracle he happened to be up early enough to head to his office to grade a few tests today. There aren’t gonna be many teachers around this early, and most students are probably still in bed — there’s almost an hour to go before the first bell. 

He looks up from the test he was grading, then grins at her when he sees she’s just standing there staring at him. “Don’t be creepy,” he tells her. She confidently steps closer to him, then sits down on his desk. “Nice glasses.” 

Lu licks her lips, then looks up at him through hooded eyes. Did she just come here to talk, or... “You okay?”

That seems to kick her instincts into gear, because she gets up and straddles his lap, moaning when he grabs her hips to hold her in place. Her lips are inches from his, and if he doesn’t kiss her soon, he’s gonna go fucking insane. Thankfully she doesn’t waste any more time — she leans in to capture his lips with hers, grinding down on him like nobody’s business. 

This isn’t the best place they could be doing this, but it’s early enough, and the door is locked so... why the hell not. It’ll definitely be easier to explain if anyone sees her leaving his office before class; easier than if she was seen leaving his apartment.  
  
He really hates how he has to be concerned with the optics of it all. 

She finally pulls away from him a little, sitting back on his knees, and he traces his thumb over her lips. She looks a little rattled, which honestly just makes her look all the more beautiful.

“I missed you,” she says softly, and fuck, so did he. Is it a good idea to admit that? Probably not. “Did you miss me too?” 

There’s a smirk on her lips, and his hands are resting on her ass under her skirt. There’s probably no reason for him to lie. 

“Just your body,” he teases, then flinches when she slaps his cheek lightly. “You do realize slapping me isn’t gonna get you what you want, right?”

In true vixen fashion, she reaches up to slip off her blazer, then starts unbuttoning her white blouse. His eyes instantly zero in on the flash of purple lace he can see from this angle. 

“What makes you think I want anything?” She asks, blinking at him all innocently even as she’s grabbing his wrist to move his hand up to her cleavage. 

Honestly, she’s insane if she thinks he’ll let her be in control. This is his office — he makes the rules. In no time, he’s pushed her off his lap and crowded her back against the desk, holding onto her head carefully as he pushes her down on it. Lu leans up slightly to take off her glasses, puts them down on the stack of papers on his desk and he sees her chest heaving, her eyes shiny with excitement. Foreplay is probably overrated at seven in the morning. 

Grinning, he runs his hands up her thighs to pull off her underwear, then runs one of his fingers over her hip bones and brushes her clit a few times just to watch her face for a reaction. She almost looks like she’s in a trance, and she lets out this little high pitched whine that he’d consider hot if he didn’t need her to be quiet. 

She seemingly catches on when he stops moving, bites her lip to keep her mouth shut and the only sound to be heard in the room for the next minute or so is the sound of her heavy breathing and the clinking of his belt as he unfastens it. 

“If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to tape your mouth shut,” he grins, mostly joking, but Lu just nods encouragingly. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she might be into that idea. Then again, he has a feeling she’d agree to almost anything when she’s desperate for him to fuck her. He palms himself, then grabs onto her hip to pull her closer to the edge of the desk and covers her mouth with his hand before he pushes into her. 

Literally having her clutch at his office desk as he fucks her is probably the best way he could’ve imagined his Wednesday morning going. It’s a thing of beauty; certainly an encounter he won’t forget anytime soon.

She’s still panting, wiping at her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand as she slumps against the desk when he finishes doing up his pants again. 

When she opens her eyes to look at him, she’s smiling. “Can I see you later?”

He’s got a faculty meeting after school, and it’s probably too risky to invite her over to his place. Instead of saying no outright, he figures he’ll tease her a little. “What, you don’t have plans with lover boy?”

She sits up and rolls her eyes at him, then grabs her glasses before she reaches for one of the pieces of paper on his desk. “Wow, you’d think Marina would know what the vas deferens is, considering her favorite past time is whoring around.”  
  
He probably shouldn’t be letting her look at other people’s tests, and he definitely shouldn’t laugh at that terrible sex joke, but he does anyway.  
  
“And no, I don’t have—,” The first warning bell goes off, so she gives him this apologetic little smile and hurriedly buttons her blouse again. “Sorry, I have to get to history class.” 

“Saved by the bell,” he laughs. 

She’s looking around for her underwear, which he stuffed into his back pocket earlier. No, he doesn’t think he’ll let her have those back. 

“Give them back,” she whines, and he shakes his head laughing. No way. “What, you really want me walking around all day with nothing under this skirt?” 

Fuck. It’s a pretty short skirt. He runs his hand over her thigh as he contemplates his next move. Well, maybe she’s got a point. He doesn’t need her accidentally flashing any other students or teachers and getting detention over it. He begrudgingly reaches for his back pocket and hands her the black scrap of lace.  
  
She’s busy gossiping with Carla when he walks in for bio later that day, and all he hears Carla say is, “Why wouldn’t you want to be his girlfriend? He’s hot,” before he loudly clears his throat and kicks off class. Lu looks a little guilty for a second, then shrugs at Carla. 

At least he knows she turned Guzmán down now.  
  
When he passes out the graded tests, he stops next to her desk and smiles at her for a second longer than he normally would. “Good job, Lucrecia,” he tells her, and isn’t talking about her grade in the slightest. He’s just glad she rejected that fuckboy's hopeless advances.  
  
(He refuses to feel bad about wanting her all to himself. Fucking look at her, alright? Can you really blame him?) 

//  
  
He really needs to get off campus for a day or two. Normally he doesn’t bother going into the city for weekends, but it’s been a while. Maybe he needs to see some of his friends and get shitfaced enough to feel slightly better about his lack of common sense lately. 

Rebeka’s his ex, meaning they dated back in high school when he was still into rebellious shit, and he kind of blew it when he got super fucked up on coke one night and literally made out with some random girl right in front of her. They’re still good friends because she’s one of the toughest, no-nonsense chicks he’s ever met, and they definitely occasionally hook up when they’re both single. Neither of them is the relationship type so it happens, like, all the time. 

But that’s not what he’s angling for here; he just needs a place to sleep. When he texts her on Thursday night, asking if he can crash at hers for the weekend, all she sends him in response is the clown emoji paired with the beer emoji, so he thinks that’s a yes. Yeah, Rebeka’s a little… weird sometimes. He’s used to it.  
  
On Friday morning, Lu texts him asking about his plans for the weekend, and he braces for her disappointment when he tells her he’ll be in Madrid. Instead, she texts back _‘me too’_ , and he immediately wonders if he can get away with seeing her. Well… _‘lunch saturday?’_ He asks because lunch feels safe. Or it _felt_ safe until she replies with her address and tells him her parents are out of town. Terrible fucking idea, and yet he knows he’s gonna go anyway. God, he is so screwed.  
  
The secrecy of the whole thing sounded kinda hot in theory, but it’s really just fucking annoying now. He has no clue why movies always try to romanticize this shit.  
  
When he pulls up to Rebeka’s building Friday evening, she’s leaning back against the door, smoking a cigarette as she grins at him. 

Honestly, he really misses having actual friends during the school year. The job is nice, and he doesn’t need to be surrounded by people his age all the time, but having the option to just go over to Rebe’s or Samu’s place for a drink after work would be nice sometimes. 

“Sup, loser,” she says, opening the driver’s side door of his car for him as he closes the window and pulls the key out of the ignition. He gets out, and Rebeka just gives him a quick once-over before she hugs him. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Or five,” he says against her neck, grinning at her when they pull apart. 

It ends up being closer to ten. Rebe’s alcohol tolerance is kind of legendary, and he does love bourbon a whole lot, so they go through a good chunk of the aged scotch she got out for the occasion. Apparently, neither of them felt like inviting their other mutual friends to come hang out, so it’s just the two of them, getting unreasonably drunk as they shoot the shit.

“So who are you fucking these days,” she asks him around one in the morning, her head resting in his lap on the couch. Before he can protest, she adds, “I know there’s someone because you haven’t tried to grope me all night.”

Shit, is he that obvious? Maybe he should’ve gone to see Samu or Ander, who haven’t known him for almost fifteen years. If he wasn’t sufficiently intoxicated, he’d probably come up with a better lie. “No one in particular,” he tells her, and she literally sits up so she can turn around and scoff at him. What is it with him and dramatic women? He shouldn’t be this into having her call him out on his shit, but here he is. 

“What, still haven’t fucked any minors? Didn’t think you’d last—,” she checks her phone for the date. “Fifteen months!” 

“Oh fuck you,” he says, probably sounding a little too defensive if the way Rebe is staring at him is any indication. “You’d have done the same thing.”

There he goes, literally just admitting it to her. He's fucking terrible at keeping things from Rebe; she's too perceptive, so she'd find out eventually anyway. The problem with being too drunk to come up with a coherent lie is that he can tell she’s totally onto him and he’s incapable of talking her out of this at the moment — being upfront about it seems a little easier to drunk Valerio. Right now, she’s leaning towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder to get him to look at her. When their eyes meet, she throws her head back to laugh. 

“Excuse you, I certainly would _not_ have done the same thing,” Rebeka grins. She sounds way too smug when she finally stops laughing long enough to say, “Please tell me she’s eighteen at least.”

He pushes at her shoulder until she slumps back down against him, then puts an arm around her and closes his eyes. 

The sound of his phone ringing wakes him up, and he reluctantly blinks open an eye, groaning at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. He’s still on Rebeka’s couch, and she’s asleep with her back to his chest, hence the awkward pain in his neck from the weird angle he slept at. His head is pounding with the irregular beat of a hangover, his throat is bone dry and he seriously wonders why he didn’t cut himself off several drinks earlier last night. 

The ringing of his phone grows louder, amplified by the way it’s vibrating against his thigh in his jeans pocket, and he hears Rebeka groan in her sleep when he carefully reaches for it and answers. 

He should’ve known it’d be Lu calling him. Nobody else ever does. 

“Hey babe,” he says, voice rough with sleep, and he hears Rebeka snort. “What’s up?”

On the other end, Lu laughs loudly, and he fights the urge to move the phone away from his ear. Ow. “Did you just call me _babe_? Are you drunk?” 

God, does she have to sound so perky and energetic and full of life? He feels dead inside. Bourbon is the worst. 

“Something like that.”

“Are we still on for lunch? My mom just left,” she says, and he doesn’t appreciate her bringing up her parents. Going to her house still feels a little too risky. “Just come by anytime.” 

He groans into the phone. “What time is it?”

“Just text me when you leave,” she laughs. “Assuming you’re not still too drunk to drive.”

He honestly might be, but he doesn’t feel the need to point that out. “See you soon,” he murmurs instead, then hangs up and relaxes back against the couch. 

A few more minutes of sleep might make all the difference. He closes his eyes, and he’s about to drift off again when he feels Rebeka sit up. Squinting at her, he sighs when she grins at him smugly. 

“You are in so much trouble, _babe_.”

Oh, real fucking mature of her. He hits her with the nearest pillow he can grab and giggles when she finds one to hit him right back. Whatever. She’s the worst. 

//

When he finally drags himself into the shower, he feels some of his will to live come back. He brushes his teeth, then chugs two glasses of water and makes some coffee. Rebeka will probably appreciate that. 

She’s still got that smug look on her face when he hands her a mug of steaming black coffee — she doesn’t believe in cream or sugar — and he honestly needs her to cut it out, especially when he’s not even fully recovered from his hangover. 

“Off to see your little girlfriend?” 

Valerio rolls his eyes at her. The most annoying part of being friends with Rebeka is definitely how good she is at reading him. She’s never judgmental, which makes it worse — she must have an opinion on all of this, right? The way she sticks to friendly teasing makes it hard to tell. 

“Can we just not do this, please,” he runs a hand over his face. “You shouldn’t have suggested that final round of drinks last night.” 

“How else was I gonna get you to admit you’re totally boning one of your students,” she deadpans, somehow already teasing him about this even though he hasn’t even really told her anything yet. Classic Rebeka move.  
  
He figures he can retaliate by putting an arm around her and pulling her close, then whispering, “You jealous, Rebe? Not a good look,” even though he knows as well as she does that there is no conceivable way they’d ever work together long term. That’s what he’s resigned himself to anyway.  
  
It feels kind of good to tell someone about the whole Lu thing. He struggles to frame the story well from the start, mainly because he doesn’t really know what the hell he’s doing with Lu in the first place, and Rebeka just knowingly glances at him when he says, “I just really like her, alright?”  


Yeah, there’s no way any of this will end well for him, but he can enjoy it while it lasts.  
  
“So wait, can you go to jail for this?”  
  
The only reason he doesn’t smack her in the head like he wants to is that he can tell she’s genuinely asking. It’s a little weird how okay she’s been with all this from the start. She’s chewing on a baguette which she’s dipping into butter, then rips it in half and hands him a piece. Lovely table manners as always, not that he’s the kind of guy who cares about shit like that.  
  
“She’s not underage if that’s what you’re asking,” he says. Rebeka snorts.  
  
“Why are you saying it like that? ‘ _Not underage’_ … You can just admit she’s barely eighteen, that sounds way less creepy.”  
  
That sounds like a setup. “How are you so okay with this?”  
  
“Val, sweetie, I’ve been expecting you to pull something like this ever since you told me you wanted to get into teaching." She’s grinning at him, and he can’t decide if he should be offended. He really hopes this isn’t actually how one of his closest friends sees him; if it is he might have to work on himself more. Doesn’t exactly speak for his character, if this is how she sees him. Then Rebeka reaches for his arm, slaps it as she laughs and says, “Dude, chill, I was joking. Why would I care? It’s not like you’re gonna marry the girl.”  
  
He shakes his head no. That’s definitely not in the cards for them, even though it would make one hell of a story to tell.  
  
//  
  
Lu’s parents live in Moraleja, which is exactly the sort of neighborhood he would’ve pictured an ambassador and his family living in. When he pulls up to the gate, it opens before he even rings the bell, so Lu is clearly watching him pull up on their — no doubt — fancy security system.  
  
The house is pretty damn nice. Well, it’s not like he was expecting a modest little family home; it’s exactly how he pictured it. Lu is waiting for him at the end of the driveway and motions for him to park in the garage, probably in case any curious neighbors notice the strange car parked out front. The hedges surrounding the property are pretty high, but he’s pretty sure some of the neighboring houses might still have a good vantage point for spying.  
  
She grabs his hand the second he’s close enough to touch, then pulls him closer and says, “Hi,” all softly as she leans up to kiss him. It’s just a quick peck, and he wraps his arms around her for a hug after, just because. God, does it feel good to finally be alone with her again. It'd be so much easier if they were always alone.  
  
“I believe you said something about lunch,” he tells her when she ushers him inside for a tour. “Despite looking handsome as ever, I am indeed incredibly hungover and could use some sustenance.”  
  
Lu rolls her eyes at him, then grabs his hand and leads him through the living room and into the open plan kitchen. Her simple green tank top is slightly cropped, and it rides up a little as she reaches for the box of food sat on the kitchen island in the center of the room, so he slides his hand under her shirt at the back. “Figured you can’t go wrong with sushi.”  
  
Well, yeah, except for the part where he doesn’t eat fish. “Half of it is vegetarian,” she says, then hands him an empty plate. “Wouldn’t want you to have to grapple with eating Nemo’s fish friends.”  
  
They each grab some food and move out to the patio overlooking the pool. It’s a sunny October day, definitely too cold for a swim but great for sitting around outside and getting some air.  
  
It takes him roughly eight pieces of sushi before his brain activity picks up enough to ask her a pretty important question. “So your parents are where again?”  
  
Lu maneuvers a piece of sashimi (ew) into her mouth and grins at him a little when he makes a face. “Daddy’s at a conference in Brussels,” he scrunches his face up further at the mention of the word daddy; she’s way too old to call her father that. “And mom’s on an overnight trip to Toledo with her wine tasting friends.”  
  
And neither of them loves her enough to stick around when she visits for the weekend is what he wants to add, but decides against it. Her mother could’ve at least stayed for lunch or something. Then again, he doubts Lu is particularly interested in spending any time at all around her parents, from what she’s told him.  
  
“So.” Lu puts her chopsticks down and turns towards him on the bench they’re sitting on, pulling the leg that’s closer to him up so she can rest her chin on it. “Why were you so hungover this morning? Get up to anything fun?”  
  
She’s so obviously trying to sound casual about him ‘getting up to’ fun things without her, which is adorable, though the way her eyes narrow when he explains he got drunk with his friend slash ex-girlfriend is kind of even cuter.  
  
“Your ex,” she says, some amount of disgust present in her tone. “That’s… nice.”  
  
Valerio leans in to kiss her to distract her, mainly, which works like a charm. He obviously could just tell her she has absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to Rebeka, but that feels a little too serious; if he acknowledges that he doesn’t want to see other people, he might fool himself into thinking this thing between them is more than just a purely physical friend with benefits type thing. That’s all it _can_ be. Shit, it can’t even be that, honestly.  
  
He frowns at her. “You taste like fish.” She sticks her tongue out at him, then laughs a little, and he pulls her closer again. “Can we take a nap?”  
  
“Jesus, you really _are_ old.”  
  
As it turns out, she has no plans to convince him to stay the night, which is good because he wouldn’t have dared to go there anyway. Just imagine if her mother came home early and caught them together... It'd be pretty impossible to talk their way out of that one. There’s some ridiculous party happening in the city tonight that Carla has apparently invited her to, some sort of Taylor Swift themed club night, and he tells her to send him a video of herself yelling along to a song of her choice, but ideally Shake It Off because it’s his favorite, later when they kiss goodbye at his car.  
  
It almost feels like a normal relationship for a moment, and he has to literally force himself not to smile too wide as he drives back towards Rebe’s and this catchy Maroon 5 song comes on the radio.  
  
Maybe this whole thing won’t be so bad after all. Maybe he does like keeping secrets.  
  
//  
  
It’s just him, Samuel and Ander sitting around Rebe’s kitchen table later that night because she had some emergency work shit to get to. She’ll be back; this kind of always happens when they hang out on weekends.  
  
The four of them met in university, even though most of them weren’t actually taking the same classes. Ander did two years of phys ed with him before he dropped out to just teach tennis full time at his father’s prestigious tennis academy in the fancy part of town and Samu was doing pre-law at the time. They literally just met at a random fraternity party, decided they were sort of vibing well, and started hanging out. He dragged Rebeka along to some of their boys nights out, and the rest is history — they’re basically the only people from his university days he still keeps in touch with.  
  
Oh, to be young again. Making friends was so much easier at nineteen.  
  
Samu’s interning with the city prosecutor’s office now, the kind of unpaid prestigious shit you have to go through if you want to somehow get into the corrupt inner circles of the legal system, and the few times a year Valerio manages to see him, he looks tired and exhausted and generally broody because he’s been disillusioned by the reality of his chosen career path.  
  
“Yeah man, I mean, I wish I could just make some preppy kids run laps instead of dealing with this shit,” he says, and Valerio is obviously used to the subtle digs his friends like to make about how easy he has it. Teaching isn’t as complex as keeping the rich richer by working on complex tax legislature backed by corrupt politicians, maybe, but it’s still a pretty important profession so, like, whatever. “How’re things anyway?”  
  
Val shrugs, takes a sip of his beer and giggles a little. “Fine.”  
  
“Need a new tennis coach? I’d love to move away from the fucking city,” Ander says. He’s pretty sure he’s just broken up with yet another boyfriend, or girlfriend or— person, whatever. It’s hard to keep track of Ander’s romantic entanglements.  
  
His phone vibrates in his pocket and he laughs a little when he sees the selfie Lu has sent him. Carla’s got an arm wrapped around her neck from behind, and they’re both wearing what he thinks might be actual Taylor Swift concert merch shirts as they drunkenly smile at the camera. It’s really cute to see her so unapologetically into something as lame as Taylor Swift’s music. (Don’t tell her he said that…) He contemplates sending a picture back, but she looks too drunk to be good at lying and this whole thing would blow up in their face if Carla accidentally saw the picture, so he texts back telling her to have fun and goes back to talking to Ander about his latest breakup.  


They chat about some other meaningless shit, catch each other up on gossip they’ve heard about people they know, and Rebeka unlocks her front door and breezes into the room with a smile on her face about halfway through his story about how the only woman his age at work is way too fucking boring for him to keep fucking her long term. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about Caye like that, but it’s the truth. Rebeka sort of snorts when she hears his reasoning for why he stopped seeing her, then grabs a beer from the fridge and drops down into a chair next to him, effortlessly propping herself up against his shoulder.  
  
“Sorry, some kid was threatening to fucking jump off a bridge because her psycho dad texted her some shit.” She mutters, then takes a sip of her beer like this is just another Saturday to her. “They should seriously pay me more for putting up with this madness.”  
  
Rebeka’s kind of amazing at what she does. Crisis counseling for at-risk youth sounds like the sort of thing that’ll leave you with serious trauma to work out after hours, but she’s just so efficient at brushing these incidents off, living her life, and then showing back up for whatever emergency she gets called in for. It’s kind of… Valerio isn’t mad or anything, but there’s just something about seeing people who are clearly the best at what they do that just makes you feel angry. Not in an evil, jealous way, but it just leaves you with this feeling of like, well shit, what am _I_ doing with _my_ life, you know?  
  
And teaching’s great, obviously, and he’s not bad at it. But is it his calling? Fuck knows. The jury’s still out on that one. He’ll definitely never be a natural at it, not like Rebeka is at caring for people around her. It’s making him drink the beer he’s holding a little faster than he normally would.  
  
“Hey, when are you two gonna get back together?” Ander asks, grinning at them both. Rebe’s half draped over him, which is nothing new. They’re always kind of cuddling. Right now, she has an arm thrown around him and her chin resting on his shoulder, and he feels her laugh before he even hears it when Ander says, “Still waiting for that wedding invite.”  
  
Samu nods, and they both launch into a round of teasing. This isn’t really new, either — their friends have always jokingly pushed them to give things another shot. Neither of them has ever really wanted to, though.  
  
“None of your fucking business,” is all Rebeka says to shut them down, and she says it with enough conviction for the guys across from them to stop, so that’s nice.  
  
If he lived in Madrid, he’d probably consider dating her. It’s not like he doesn’t already know they mesh well. As it stands, that isn’t an option, and he doesn’t give a shit about what their annoying friends think. Let them talk.  
  
For now, he’s got his hands full with Lu anyway.

//  
  
He knows he’s growing attached because it’s his idea to pick Lu up on his way back to campus on Sunday and drive back with her. They both agree he can just drop her off somewhere in town, and she can take a cab the rest of the way back to school.  
  
It buys him a solid 70 minutes with her, which is nice. It’s nice to just talk to her, sometimes.  
  
He should stop letting himself enjoy her company this much, but he’s never been very good at denying himself things he enjoys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo... I've got my laptop back, Biden won the US election and my city's somewhat locked down which means I will have plenty of time to update this story more frequently, hopefully!


	8. Chapter 8

  
He almost fucks everything up. Everything.

He’s at a faculty meeting, chatting with Cayetana during a break, and he’s showing her old pictures of himself on his phone because she’s refusing to believe he ever had long hair. He’ll definitely win this argument because his hair used to be hilariously long and unkempt. When he finally finds the picture he was looking for, Cayetana laughs, then grabs the phone from him to zoom in. Honestly, he hates when people do that; why does she need to hold his phone to look at a picture? The smile on her face instantly fades when he gets a text from Lu. Well, obviously he didn’t save her contact info under her actual name — he’s not fucking stupid — so the letter M pops up (M for Montesinos, her last name, because he’s clever like that) and the message preview just shows she’s sent him a picture of herself standing in front of a mirror, wearing dark blue lingerie that is most definitely not age-appropriate. He thanks his lucky stars that her face isn’t visible in the picture. The caption just says ‘ _is blue my color?_ ’ and it very obviously is, not that it matters in the slightest now.  
  
Caye lets out a surprised, “Oh,” when she sees it, then accidentally _clicks_ on the notification as she hands the phone back to him, and he can totally tell she’s staring at the picture as it opens in full-screen mode. The best way to play this is obviously to pretend she just caught him redhanded sexting some random chick, so he just clears his throat and locks his phone because this definitely isn’t the time to text her back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She sounds apologetic, and god, if only she knew. She’d have a fucking heart attack.  


“Don’t worry about it.”

For the rest of the meeting, he’s absolutely terrified of what she might say after it’s over. What are the odds that she recognized Lu? He’s trying not to let his nerves show, but fuck, she could absolutely ruin this for him.

When the meeting’s adjourned, Caye falls into step with him. “I really hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”  
  
She’s so polite sometimes — it’s kind of cute.

He laughs. “I should be telling you that.”

“We’re... we’re both adults, I think we can handle this.”

This is the part where she clearly expects him to open up to her and tell her more about this woman he might be seeing who’s sending him promiscuous pictures, but he’s not gonna do that. The less he says, the better the chances of not getting himself caught in a web of lies.

They part ways when they get to their building, and after he closes his front door behind him, he counts to ten in his head — maybe to calm himself down, maybe to make sure Cayetana’s out of earshot — before he dials Lu’s number and waits for her to pick up.  


“I take it you don’t love the blue,” she says as a way of greeting, and he’s instantly pissed again.

“Are you alone?” He asks because he wouldn’t put it past her to say that shit with Marina in the room. They really can’t afford anyone else getting suspicious.

He can practically see her rolling her eyes as she answers. “Yes. Why? What’s up?”

And yeah, he’s fucking mad at her. That was a stupid fucking risk to take. It’s not like she didn’t literally come by his office just this morning before class — she had no reason to be desperate enough to justify sending that fucking picture.

“Never send me shit like that again when you know I’m in a meeting.”

Lu chuckles, but he’s being dead serious. “Oh no, did I distract you from paying attention to boring bullshit talking points? My bad.”

Yeah, no, _my bad_ isn’t gonna cut it.

“Cayetana saw the picture,” is all he says. Lu giggles in response, clearly amused. “Nothing about this is even remotely funny, Lu.”

“Well, at least she knows you’re spoken for now.”

Did she do this shit on purpose? Is she fucking serious? This isn’t a game to him; his job’s on the line. And yeah, he knew that before and he shouldn’t have fucking let this happen to begin with but today was the first time he really felt the gravity of it all hit him.

“No, she knows I’ve got random women sexting me in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Same thing. She’ll get the hint.”

And honestly? Fuck her for being so casual about all of this. If Caye were to find out they’d have a real fucking problem, so she really needs to get a grip. He doesn’t give a shit about her being jealous of someone he isn’t even really friends with.

“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” He hangs up, turns off his phone and figures she can probably handle being ignored for twenty-four hours.

It’s better than telling her to never speak to him again, which is what he really wanted to say.   
  
//  


He told her not to come here. Not now, not _ever_ , especially not unannounced.

But Lu is persistent, so when there’s a quiet knock on his door just after 10pm on Friday, he opens the door and quickly ushers her inside.

They haven’t actually spoken outside of class and practice since the whole texting incident. He barely spared her a glance all day yesterday, and he could tell it bothered her because she started flirting with Guzmán right in front of him as they got ready to run laps. She’s not very good at hiding her intentions, so he was completely aware of her eyes on him the whole time she was chatting with Guzmán as they made their way around the track.

Now she’s in a simple black dress, presumably having snuck off from whatever party the dorm is having tonight — they tend to host movies nights and whatnot to avoid having the students sneak off campus to get wasted on weekends — and she’s biting her lip as she looks at him, a question in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He takes a step back and sighs when she moves closer, grabbing his hand. If he lets her touch him, he’ll forget to be mad at her, which he definitely still is. What she did was reckless, and petty, and absolutely unnecessary.

Instead of answering, she tugs on his hand and drags him into his bedroom. It’s weird to think she hasn’t been back here in the almost two weeks this has been going on. She’s quickly become an expert in office desk hookups, and those are fun, but he’s definitely missed having her in his bed. Maybe he could... well, who is he kidding, there’s no way he’s gonna make her leave now. She’s already here, so they might as well take advantage.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She looks like she’s expecting praise or some sort of medal for that simple apology. “Now stop ignoring me.”

It comes out sounding petulant, so he chuckles. She’s so demanding.

“You’re not sorry at all, are you?” He pulls her closer and she grabs him by the shirt, pulling it over his head before trailing a hand from his abs to his chest. It’s fucked up because it’s only been two days since he last had her, but he fucking missed being around her. Not even just the promise of sex but her whole attitude. He likes her.  
  
“Lu,” he warns, voice lower, wanting. She pushes gently at his chest, and he sits down on the bed, and then she starts unzipping her dress tantalizingly slowly, just kind of smirking at him as she drops it to the floor. He leans back on his hands and watches, transfixed. It’s not fair that she’s got him under her spell like that.  
  
Of course, she’s in the blue get-up from the picture, probably because he still hasn’t told her he likes it.  
  
She steps closer, and he hooks a finger through the band of her underwear, admiring the view. “Definitely your color,” he murmurs, which gets her to smirk at him. “Take it off.”

Instead of doing what he told her to, she leans down and pulls his sweatpants off his hips, then moves so she’s straddling him. He didn’t bother with underwear after his shower, so he’s naked while she’s still donning that ridiculously hot blue lingerie set. The bra is one of those lacy sports bras that he never knows the name for, and the blue material is mostly see-through, so she really is flaunting her youth. Gravity’s got nothing on her perky tits.

She’s slowly grinding in his lap, and he’s still just staring at her cleavage.

Then she finally kisses him, instantly turns the kiss dirty, and murmurs, “You take it off me,” against his lips.

It’s hard to stay mad at her after that.

//

“What’s Marina gonna say when you get back?”

It’s only nine in the morning, and they’re having coffee in his living room before he’ll sneak her out of here.

“Something super judgmental,” Lu says. “Even though she’s out every other night of the week, fucking any townie who will have her.”

Lu’s stories about Marina are still a little surprising to him. They show how little teachers actually know about their students; he wouldn’t have expected the redhead to be... promiscuous.

She pushes closer to him. She’s got her back to him as she sits between his legs, and he’s normally not super into cuddling like this. It’s different with Lu because he almost never gets to act like this around her, so when an opportunity presents itself, he always takes it. He’s never not touching her in some way when they’re alone together.

“And what if she asks where you were?”

Lu giggles and he can hear the smirk in her voice when she says, “Then I’ll tell her it’s none of her fucking business, and she’ll take that to mean I fucked her brother so she’ll stop asking questions.”

Smart.

“You know the next few weeks are gonna be a challenge,” he’s toying with her hair, twirling a strand of it around his finger. “We’ve got the Halloween fundraiser, and then that meet in Valencia, too.”

They’re going out of town for track regionals. Well, it's not exactly regionals; it's a qualifying meet that anyone in the area who has run a certain time this season can attend, so he sometimes calls it regionals in his head. Going out of town with her sounds fun, but the idea of bringing nine other kids and possibly another chaperone along is distinctly less fun. “We’ll have to be careful.”

Lu nods, then sets her mostly empty mug of coffee down on the table next to the couch. “I got it, no more sexting during working hours.”

She’s wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, and he’s got a feeling she might not leave right away, just based on the way she’s pushing her ass back against his crotch now like she’s testing the waters.

It’s almost like she can read his mind — right after he lets himself think about fucking her one last time before she has to go, she turns around, takes his cup from him and sets it down next to hers. Then she’s in his lap, practically dripping onto him, and he can’t find it in himself to think of a reason to put a stop to this.

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he warns when she’s gotten him out of his briefs, her legs locked on either side of his hip. She definitely wasn’t very quiet last night. “Okay?”

Lu nods, then kisses him as she sinks down on him, and he swallows the moan she lets out when he bottoms out inside of her.

She rolls her hips and lets out a low whine, and he clasps a hand over her mouth. “Quiet.”

There are tears of frustration in her eyes when she finally lets go, her teeth digging into his shoulder to muffle any sound that might come out of her mouth.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” he whispers, kissing the crown of her head, and she huffs as she sits up.

Lu pouts a little, then bites her lip. “For you, maybe. I’m a very vocal person.”

He grins. “I hadn’t noticed.”

//

She’s on her knees in front of him, her luscious lips wrapped around his cock, when there’s a knock on his office door. Fuck. Not exactly how he was hoping his Monday morning would go.

Lu looks up at him, alarmed, and he motions for her to scoot back so she’s under his desk, then just barely manages to move a little closer himself and hide his very obvious arousal behind it.

“Val?” Cayetana’s voice rings in from the other side of the door, and Jesus fucking Christ, why is it always her interrupting them? A part of him half expects her to just get off on cockblocking him at this point.

Lu trails a hand down his thigh and he shudders, then pushes it away. “Come in,” he tells Caye, and fully expects the door to be locked when she tries to open it. It isn’t, which... Holy shit, they need to be more careful about that.

“Hey,” she says, a smile on her face. “Just thought I’d stop by so we can talk about the event on Wednesday.”

Right. The stupid charity runathon thing. Why do they have to talk about it?

He grins at her despite his annoyance with her. “What, do you want to sign up? I didn’t know you were into running.”

“Only from my problems,” she jokes, and he feels Lu’s hand dig into his leg. She probably isn’t a fan of how he’s laughing at Caye’s stupid banter, but he’s trying to save his ass here. Both of their asses, really.

“If you need another faculty volunteer, I’d be happy to join.”

Lu moves her hand back up to his crotch, pressing against him lightly, and he really fucking needs Cayetana to leave now.

“Sure, we could always use a pair of extra hands,” he tells her, then glances at a stack of papers on his desk. “I’ve got a few more tests to get through, but let’s catch up later, alright?”

Under his desk, Lu is tapping her fingers on his thigh impatiently, and when the door finally closes behind Caye, she pushes his chair back and climbs out of her little hiding spot.

She’s already on her way over to lock the door. “Holy shit, did we leave the door open?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, then grins at her. “ _You_ left the door open.”

Lu bites her lip, then sighs dramatically as she sinks back to her knees in front of him. “I guess I better make it up to you then.”

His hands fist in her hair as soon as she leans back in to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock, and when she twists her wrist while she takes him deeper, he curses.

As long as she gives head like that, he can probably forgive her for being careless.

//

He sees her talking to Carla, Guzmán, and some other preppy looking guy he’s never seen before. He looks too delicate to be on any sports teams — that’s probably why. All four of them are in workout gear, so they’re probably all running a few laps for charity, and when Carla catches him watching them she smirks, then waves.

That better not mean Lu has told her about what’s been going on.

It’s honestly torture, having to stand here and watch her fucking pretend she doesn’t hate Guzmán’s guts. They’re all clearly messing around, and at one point he hoists her up on his shoulders and runs over to where he and Caye are sitting and says, “Hey, Valerio, does it count for two laps if I carry her around the track?” and Caye actually laughs and tells them it should. Lu is grinning, which he doesn’t appreciate, and when they leave again, Cayetana chuckles.

“It’s refreshing to see her act her age.”

Well. It isn’t for him, but he gets what she means, so he smiles and nods, then looks at the time and figures they might as well kick this thing off.

The fundraiser is a rousing success. By the end of the night, they’ve somehow raised over 10,000 euros for charity, and Lu is only slightly flushed from all the laps she’s been running when she gets up on stage to announce this and present one of those huge checks you always see on TV to the Aldeas Infantiles rep.

There’s a little reception after, with some food and drinks, and thankfully the athletic nature of the event means tons of people head to their dorms to shower first. He gives Lu a look when he says he’s gonna head home to change, and he’s not surprised when she knocks on his door a few minutes after he got back. He didn’t actually do any running, so there’s no reason for him to shower.

They planned this. She handed him a bag with a change of clothes in his office this morning, so she could shower at his place and maybe spend a little extra time getting sweaty with him before anyone might notice they’re not over in the auditorium mingling with everyone else.

She kisses him as soon as the door is closed behind her, then pushes him toward the bathroom. “Come on, I need to shower,” she says, so he unzips her Nike running fleece, then pushes it off her shoulders and goes straight for her tank and sports bra. “Are you coming in with me?”

Of course he is. He doesn’t think he needs to tell her that. He laughs instead because he just thought of such a stupid joke. “I’m coming _in_ you.”

Lu groans, exasperated at his dirty dad joke, and he laughs at his own bad sense of humor. She steps out of her leggings, and he gets rid of his clothes, and then they’re under the warm stream of the shower, trying not to slip or trip over one another. Shower sex is hot, but it’s also really fucking dangerous if you don’t pay attention.

He uses the loofah she left here a few weeks ago to lather her up with soap, making sure to pay extra attention to the space between her legs, and she whines when he refuses to touch her where he knows she wants him to.

Her eyes fall closed and she leans her head against his shoulder, shifting most of her weight so it’s leaning on him. He runs a hand down her back and hugs her to his chest. “Tired?”

She hums. She definitely ran more actual laps than most, so it makes sense for her to be exhausted. “Can we just skip the stupid drinks thing?”

He’s not gonna pretend that’s an option here. Sure, she could probably fake a headache and text someone else from the student council project team to take over, but he’d also need to make up an excuse to let Cayetana know why he won’t be around. There’s no way he’ll risk that; not after all the other close encounters they’ve had with her recently.

Pushing her back under the showerhead, he makes sure her hair is properly wet, then turns her around so he can shampoo it for her. She whimpers, pushing back against him, and he thinks this whole thing is a little too intimate.

There’s no way she’s got the energy for anything else, so once he’s rinsed her hair for her, he leans down to kiss her a little, just for a few lazy minutes. Then he turns off the water and tries to ignore the disappointed sigh she lets out. Yeah, he’d rather not go back out there, too.

After she’s stepped into her outfit for the night — just a pair of dark jeans and a nice blouse — she comes into the bedroom where he’s lounging in his towel and uses the mirror on his dresser to brush her hair.

Glancing at him, she pouts. “I wish we didn’t have to be around people all the time.”

He doesn’t say anything. If he did, he’d tell her he wishes she was older.

//

The qualifying meet for track Nationals is in Valencia this year. He’d tried to get Cayetana to come along because these things are always easier if your chaperoning partner isn’t five hundred years old, but the competition is on a Saturday, and she had plans that weekend, so he had to improvise.

Out of all the other people on the faculty, Omar is probably the only person Valerio would trust to have a life outside of teaching. He’s only a few years older than him, and by some random  twist of fate, he teaches subjects that are somehow more useless than Valerio’s — woodworking and physics. They’re not friends, but the few times he’s spoken to Omar at faculty mixers, he’s kind of gotten the feeling that they could be, so he asks him to help him out with the track meet and Omar agrees.

It’s only a small number of students going, because not everyone on the team is actually a particularly gifted athlete, and the qualifying race times for participation were pretty rigorous. Lu and Guzmán are their best bet for the girls' and boys' races, respectively, and Marina is a good long-distance runner, so she’s the only other girl that made it. There are a few more boys, two juniors and a very tall sophomore, so in total there are six kids and two adults sitting in the school-branded minivan on Friday when they meet after lunch, ready for the two-hour ride down to the coast.

Omar is driving, so Valerio’s in the passenger seat, and Lu shoots him a look when she realizes she’s gonna be stuck in the middle seat between Guzmán and Marina.

There are two girls and four boys going, so any sensible teacher would’ve probably made them share rooms two apiece, but this is private school. Thank fucking god, honestly. They’ve got six rooms booked for the students, and two for the teachers, all on the same floor. It’s not like he wasn’t gonna have his own room to sneak Lu into anyway, but now they won’t have to worry about her roommate getting suspicious.

After they arrive, they all disperse for an hour of downtime, and then he’s ordered everyone to get ready for a light outdoor run on the beach, just so they can pretend they did something today. That was one of the conditions Azucena laid out when he asked if he could take the kids down a night earlier so they’d have time to ‘acclimate’.

Omar watches in amusement as Lu holds onto Valerio’s arm so she can stretch out her calves without losing balance. She’s decked out in purple Nike today, complete with a fleece jacket and a headband to hold her hair back. The wind on the beach is kind of intense, and he’s already thinking about cutting this run short. He doesn’t need any of the kids getting sick.

Lu lets go of his arm and drops into a full side split on the sand, and Omar raises a brow and chuckles. “Running looks painful.”

Glancing back at Omar, Lu leans forward so her chest is brushing the sand, then calls him over and Valerio obediently lowers himself to sit on her lower back, really stretching her out. She moans a little, and Omar looks alarmed, like this must count as torture or something.

He knows they’re going to get along when Omar laughs and says, “Wow, so you get paid to administer child abuse? Nice gig, man.”

Lu snickers, like she disagrees with this being child abuse, then mutters, “I’m not a child,” but it’s too quiet for anyone but him to hear. She definitely takes stretching to another level. This is hardly part of a normal running warmup, but Lu likes showing off, so she probably wanted to flex about her hip flexibility a little. He certainly appreciates her diligent stretching efforts. 

He gets back on his feet, then holds out a hand to help Lu up and she grins. “Can everyone else get here already? I’m ready to run.”

“Well,” he teases. “We can’t all be fifteen minutes early.”

Omar stays behind with their water bottles, jokingly punches his arm when he asks if he wants to come along for a jog, and he spends the run chatting with Guzmán, who seems like an okay dude. He’d like him more if he didn’t obviously still have a thing for Lu, but that’s hardly the kid’s fault. He has a thing for her too — he gets it.

Lu is bickering with Marina behind him, something about some secret admirer Marina keeps sneaking off to meet, and he tunes them out. That’s none of his business.

After dinner, they all agree that it might be fun to go on a little walk around the city, and Omar grins when they get downtown. “You know, I went to university down here.”

From behind them, Lu chimes in, “You need a degree to teach woodworking?” and he hears the rest of the students crack up. He snorts; yeah, okay, that was a good one.

Omar is still grinning, so he can’t mind too much. “I know a great place around here if you guys are up for some swing music.”

It’s Guzmán’s turn to sound stupid. “Wait, like a swingers club?”

That gets the rest of the kids to giggle, and honestly, they could probably all use some fun, so he’s game. “Let’s go, you kids need to learn what real dancing looks like. No more twerking!”

The club is fairly crowded and people of all ages are dancing to the swing music sounding from the stage where a whole band has set up shop. The kids are all just kind of awkwardly looking around before he turns to them and grins. “Alright, who’s ready to dance?”

He holds out a hand a Lu takes it, so he leads her out onto the dance floor. Swing music doesn’t allow for particularly close, sexual dancing so this is absolutely safe, and he knows everyone else is looking at them, so he tries to keep the eye contact to a minimum. Omar soon joins them, Marina in tow, and then they’re all kind of moving to the music. None of them really know the dance moves, but they’re going with the flow and it’s fun.

Lu looks absolutely radiant. Her long hair is down today, held off her face by a simple teal headband, and she’s in a bohemian style dress with a flowy skirt. She hasn’t stopped smiling since they’ve started dancing, and she’s definitely the person that’s the most into all this. After what feels like an eternity, she walks off the dance floor and towards the bar, and he figures it’s part of his job as a chaperone to follow her. She’s leaning on the bar, catching her breath, her face a little flushed and sweaty from all the dancing, when he comes to stand next to her and nudges her shoulder with his own.

“Tired already?”

She shakes her head. “Just need a drink. Are we allowed to drink on this trip?”

Well, probably not, but he doesn’t really care that much. She’s eighteen, so one or two drinks are fine. He shrugs, and she takes that to mean she’s allowed, so she orders two shots of tequila and a large glass of water and hands him one of the shots. She spreads some salt on her wrist, then holds it out to him, and it’s the endorphins from all the dancing that make him lean forward and lick it off her wrist before he throws back the shot and bites into the slice of lime.

She’s grinning at him when he looks over, then reaches for his wrist and licks it so she can put some salt on it. “My turn,” she tells him, already leaning in again.

This is stupid, and a little reckless, but when he looks around, he’s pretty sure none of the other kids are nearby. They’re probably safe.

She chugs the glass of water, then wipes at her forehead with her hand and takes his hand in his to lead him back out onto the dance floor. “Let’s go back!”

It’s all a little too fun for him to process. He makes sure to dance with some of the other kids too, especially the younger boys who look a little uncomfortable, and by the end of the night they all seem to be pretty into the music, and they’re nailing the dance moves more and more. See? This is an educational experience for everyone involved. He’s trying to make sure they’re all more cultured, or whatever.

When he presses her back against his hotel bed not much later and gets his hands up under her dress, she looks up at him and he chastises himself for giving into his temptations. Then she touches him and he really stops giving a fuck, because it feels good and he wants to let himself have that. 

She sleeps in his bed, then sneaks back to her room before breakfast, and he pretends he’s surprised when she and Guzmán are the only two kids on the team to qualify for Nationals in Madrid later this month.

She’s beaming after she finishes her race, then comes running over to throw her arms around him.They’re leaving right after this, so he sends her off to the showers so they can leave on time.

“Let’s celebrate at your place tonight,” she whispers, and he can’t find it in himself to deny her, not when she’s got that huge, triumphant grin on her face that makes him want to throw caution to the wind and kiss her in front of everyone.

He kind of can’t wait for Nationals in two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my 12th grade English teacher for the swing club scene inspo!


	9. Chapter 9

Valerio is drunk.  
  
Valerio never gets drunk.** *** 

(**Anymore.) (***For the most part.)  
  
But see, it’s his birthday, so he went back to Madrid to celebrate for the weekend. He was gonna just hang out with Rebeka, and maybe see some of their other friends if he felt like it but then Rebeka had told him she doesn’t actually care if he invites ‘the child’ he’s seeing over. That sounded like a trap, honestly, but he knows Rebe well enough to trust her with shit like this so now he’s sitting on her couch, Lu pressed against his side and Rebeka across from them on the floor. They’re playing a very drunk game of Kings.  
  
It doesn’t really matter that none of them actually know the rules.  
  
Rebeka has already made roughly a thousand jokes about Lu’s age, but Lu’s pretty tough. They instantly bonded by engaging in a few catty back-and-forths, and it’s becoming very apparent that his taste in women is and always has been brunette competitive assholes.  
  
Now that he thinks about it, Lu is a lot like Rebe was when he first met her at age sixteen. God, he needs to stop comparing them to each other.  
  
If he’s drunk, Lu is equally shitfaced; she’s leaning on him a little, using his thigh as a tray to keep her bottle of beer on.  
  
“Why is beer so delicious?” She asks seriously, scrunching up her nose. “That’s so unfair.”  
  
From her spot across from them, Rebeka laughs, then says, “Life ain’t fair, princess,” and even though she hides it better, she’s definitely drunk as well.  
  
Lu snorts. “I like her,” she whispers, except she’s a couple of drinks in, so her voice echoes in the room.  
  
Rebeka’s laughing as she pours herself another drink and grins at him. “Is she even old enough to drink?” 

Next to him, Lu snorts out a laugh — she’s definitely drunk because she told him once that she thinks that’s an unattractive thing to do — and pouts a little. “Hey!”

Then she tries to shuffle the deck of cards, which definitely isn’t a part of this game, but they’re all too far gone to care. She keeps messing up, and Rebeka takes pity on her and sits down on the other side of her, taking the deck from her. “Like this,” she says, then does one of those impressive card shark moves where she makes shuffling the deck look like magic.

Lu watches closely, then grabs Rebe’s wrist so she can try again. He sees Rebe’s hand move to rest on Lu’s thigh, which he’s not a fan of — is it really that important for her to learn how to shuffle a deck of fucking cards? They keep that whole thing up for at least ten minutes, and he’s pretty sure they’re... flirting? He knows what Rebeka looks like when she’s trying to fuck someone; he’s been on the receiving end of that look one too many times. This is definitely that.  
  
The more intriguing part is how Lu is absolutely going along with it like she has no plans of shutting this down whatsoever.

When she gets up to go to the bathroom, he glares at Rebeka, but he’s grinning, too. “Can you stop flirting with my—“ he pauses, trying to come up with the appropriate term. “Girl?”

That sends Rebeka into a drunken fit of laughter. “Your girl? You mean your student.”

Right. Fucking whatever. The only reason he’s not mad is that he’s drunk and knows she’d never actually do anything. Rebeka’s too nice to do that to him and Lu’s too uptight to cheat— or not, like, cheat but you know... to _cheat_. They’re not together: she can’t technically cheat.

“Fuck you. It’s my birthday.”

“Look, it’s not my fault she’s hot, ok? She’s the one who started it.”

“Well, you’re the one who put a hand on her thigh.”

“After she _signaled_ for me to. It’s a whole vibe thing, alright? She’s definitely into women.”

He scoffs. “Most private school brats are.”

“Most of us are what?” Lu asks from behind him.  
  
Yeah, he’s not gonna answer that. Rebeka pats the spot on the couch next to her, and Lu lets herself fall back on it dramatically, putting her head in Rebeka’s lap. Wait, what? Fuck that. That’s supposed to be him playing with her hair.

Rebeka grins down at Lu, then says, “Into girls. Are you?” and he finds himself watching Lu’s face closely. He sort of doesn’t want her to answer that question, but he also really, really wants to know.

Lu just giggles, then lifts her head to glance up at him. “I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” she says, which obviously more than answers Rebe’s question. She looks up at Rebe, smirking. “I’m into attractive people.”

“Thanks babe,” he says, mainly to get her attention back. Fuck this.

“I like princess better,” She replies, and he hears Rebeka chuckle. “I am a princess.”

She sits up, and he runs a hand over her knee. There’s a grin on her lips, and even though he’s probably too drunk to actually fuck her, he really wants to. Then Rebeka turns to look at him, moving so her arm can wrap around Lu’s waist from behind and... He’s absolutely gonna put a stop to this shit right now.

“I’m tired, let’s go to bed,” he says, ignoring how Rebeka is rolling her eyes at him. 

Lu whines. “But I’m having fun.”

“Well, _princess_ ,” he reaches for her hand and pulls her closer. “It’s my birthday. I make the rules.”

He can literally see realization dawn on her because her eyes narrow and her mouth falls open slightly. Yeah, he’s definitely thinking about her birthday too. Fuck. Hands down the best day of the year.

Rebeka watches closely as Lu moves to sit in his lap, then groans when he leans in to kiss her. “Right, I’m gonna go, please remember the walls are thin and I’m a light sleeper.”

He knows for a fact she isn’t, but this probably isn’t the right time to mention that. Lu jumps out of his lap, because she’s a young, enthusiastic drunk and he sighs as he watches her hug Rebeka goodnight. Rebe is facing him, and when she gives him the finger and smirks his way, he figures he’ll use this time to go brush his teeth.  
  
Maybe that’ll distract him from drunkenly considering a threesome with his ex-girlfriend and the eighteen-year-old he’s sleeping with. Lord fucking help him.  
  
In the morning he finds her and Rebe sitting at the kitchen table, talking quietly as they’re looking through the worn pages of one of their school yearbooks, and the pictures are a little too cool for him to be pissed at Rebe for exposing his teenage hair faux pas like that.  
  
He comes back over with a cup of coffee and joins in on the fun.  
  
//  
  
November’s been a bit of a blur.  
  
First, there was the track meet out of town, and when Lu and Guzmán both qualified for Nationals, they agreed to add an extra workout before school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, just to get them in the best possible shape. He normally loves any excuse to be around Lu more, but this turn of events is slightly inconvenient for them, seeing as it interferes with their early morning office hookups.  
  
They went up to Madrid for Nationals, and neither Lu nor Guzmán won anything, but they did decently well in their respective disciplines, which is good enough for him. He’s a proud coach, alright? Both of them are great kids and talented athletes, even if he’s got a clear favorite. It was only a day trip, no overnight stay, and he didn’t even scold them for suggesting they stop at McDonald's on the drive back to school; they definitely all deserved a healthy amount of junk food.  
  
Exams don’t start until early December, but that doesn’t stop the entire student body from freaking out and spending pretty much all of their time in the library, just to be prepared. Lu is no different — though he does appreciate when she sneaks away to his office or his place for study breaks.  
  
By the time his birthday comes around in late November, he feels like he’s barely seen Lu in weeks, even though he sees her almost daily, naked or otherwise.  
  
It’s nice, obviously, to just spend all weekend hanging out with her for his birthday. He doesn’t know what she told her parents or her friends, but he also doesn’t really care. Seeing her interact with Rebeka, and watching the two of them actually get along freaks him out — it makes him think about how normal this whole thing could be if she was old enough to date him. But this isn’t a relationship and it can’t lead to one and they both know that, even if they haven’t talked about it. Lu is too smart to think otherwise.  
  
He’s certainly gotten used to her. That’s a bit of an issue. It’s turned him into a reckless dumbass, who takes risks he really shouldn’t, just to spend time with her.  
  
On Sunday, they’re out for lunch, in a fucking crowded restaurant in Madrid, and as much as he loves this, he knows he’s being colossally stupid. If just one person that knows either of them — or worse, _both of them_ — sees them together, they’ll have a serious problem. It’s his addictive personality; he’s addicted to being around her. He never claimed to be particularly good at impulse control.  
  
She’s chatting along about some movie she wants to see, then changes the subject and talks about her plans for the future — which are ambitious enough to scare even him — and he smiles at her when he tells her more about how he ended up in teaching.  
  
When she asks about his family, he doesn’t even feel uncomfortable telling her more about them. It’s amazing, if a little bizarre, how mature she is. Not that they’re that far apart in age, but she’s never once acted like a stupid teenager around him. She’s an incredible woman. Fuck, he’s so screwed.  
  
“What am I gonna do with all my free time when you’re off to Oxford or Cambridge next year?”  
  
She hasn’t gotten in yet but she obviously will. He’s never met anyone as determined as her.  
  
Lu bites her lip, then busies herself with paying especially close attention to the kale on her plate instead.  
  
Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t talk about that at all.  
  
//

“There has got to be an easier way to do this.”  
  
He’s at a student council meeting along with two other teachers who were deemed young and cool enough to attend, watching the kids go over the budget for next year.

Lu and Marina — the acting council treasurer — have been fighting about costs for prom for the past twenty minutes, and as amusing as it is to see them clash, he’d really like to wrap this up and go home. It’s almost seven; he’d like to have dinner soon.

They’re sat in the teachers’ lounge meeting room, and it looks a little empty, with just six students and three teachers in attendance. Lu and Marina pause to glare at each other, and Lu’s got that indignant look on her face that lets him know she’s definitely ready to deal physical blows, so maybe he should intervene.

He addresses her. “Look, b—,” holy shit, he _cannot_ call her baby. “— Lu, how about we bench this until next week. You can each come up with a budget and we’ll go over it then.”

She glares at him. “We have exams next week.”

“So what, you’ll manage,” Marina rolls her eyes. “Not like you’ve been studying much lately anyway.”

Lu gasps — she is such a fucking drama queen — and turns to Marina. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Whoa, okay. They definitely need to wrap this up before things get more passive-aggressive. He looks to Cayetana for help. Caye is usually better than him at keeping the peace and restoring order. She clears her throat.

“I think Marina has a point about making sure everyone can afford to attend,” she says, and flinches a little like she’s afraid Lu might hate her for it. God, she really needs to learn to be okay with people — especially her students — not always liking her. Marina grins at Caye, then winks at Lu, and Lu looks fucking pissed.

“Of course you’d say that.” Lu snaps at Cayetana, turning to glare at everyone sat around the table individually. Jesus, she really needs to calm down. He knows she’d murder him if he said that out loud, so he keeps quiet.

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.”

Clearly in the mood for theatrics, Lu gets up and leaves the room. On her way out, she taps his shoulder, which everyone in the room obviously saw, and he makes her wait a whole five minutes before they all agree to discuss details next week and he goes to follow her to his office.

When she’s not there, he figures he’ll head home. Chances are she’ll be waiting for him; there’s no way she’d go back to her room now, not when Marina pissed her off enough for her to attack another teacher and she’d have to be around her.

Predictably, she’s in his living room when he unlocks the door. Yeah, he gave her his spare key. That was probably a stupid thing to do, but it makes meeting up with her more convenient and practical.

“There you are,” he says, crossing the room and sitting down next to her on the couch. Her body language still reads visibly angry, and he’s sort of hoping she’ll calm down soon; he’s not in the mood for this shit. “Quite a scene you made.”

Like the fucking crazy woman she is, she scoffs, then moves into his lap. Just when he thinks she’s about to kiss him, she slaps him hard enough to actually hurt a little. She really shouldn’t be taking her anger out on him, but if she wants to play rough, he’ll play rough. Poor thing has no idea what she’s in for.

Maybe it’s finally time to teach her a lesson about respecting authority.

Grabbing her wrist with enough force to make her wince, he smirks up at her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

She rolls her eyes, moving closer still so their lips are almost touching. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

If she thinks he’s just gonna kiss her now, she’s got another thing coming. She leans in right as he’s pushing her away, and she lands on the couch next to him, looking dazed and confused and really fucking turned on. God, he fucking loves when her pupils dilate like that; it’s a telltale sign that he’s about to have a great time.

He gets up, then reaches for her arm and pulls her to her feet. “Move.”

Lu whines even as she goes along with his demand, and he drags her to his bedroom before she can ask what he’s got planned. She’s in her school uniform which... Well, most of his fantasies start with her looking like this.

They can probably both skip dinner unnoticed, right?

He pushes the blazer off her shoulders, then unbuttons her blouse and takes that off of her too, and when she reaches for the zipper of her skirt he shakes his head. “Leave it on.”

The moan she lets out is nearly enough to make him change his mind about all of this. But no; she needs to learn her lesson. He can’t have her doing shit like this in front of other teachers again. He leaves her standing there in a simple white bra and her fucking plaid uniform skirt and just sits down at the edge of the bed. Lu looks confused so he figures he’ll clue her in.

“Get over here,” he says, kind of chuckling at how authoritative he sounds and how eagerly she complies with his demand. She sits down next to him and he laughs. “Not like that. Come on, across my lap.”

She bites her lip, then immediately obliges, and before he knows it he’s got her spread out over his lap, her ass right in front of him for easy access. He flips her skirt up and squeezes, hard, making her cry out.

“You know I don’t like having to punish you like this, right?” He’s absolutely lying through his teeth. He fucking loves it, actually. Lu hums, then cries out when he brings his hand down on her left ass cheek. “I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt today and say you didn’t mean to act like an ungrateful, spoiled little girl who can’t stand not getting her way. Fifteen slaps, but only if you count for me, okay?”

He slaps her other cheek, just to see what she’ll do, and laughs when she bucks her hips up towards him. She’s definitely enjoying this. “I didn’t hear a number so that one doesn’t count.”

She finally catches on when he brings his hand down on her ass again. “One,” she grits out, and he runs a hand over her simple white lace underwear encouragingly. He’ll take that off of her soon enough.

He slaps her again and again and again, watches her skin turn red with irritation, and follows the lace from her ass to her crotch, grinning to himself when he finds her soaked for him. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if she wasn’t as into this as he is; thankfully now he won’t have to find out.  
  
Her voice is coming out more and more breathless and pitchy, like she can’t take much more, and he holds her in place when he feels her trying to move around for some friction.

When his hand lingers and he doesn’t keep going right away, she whines. “Are you done yet?”

“Did you count to fifteen?” He asks, then grabs her underwear and pulls on it, making it cut into her skin a little. She cries out at the sensation, and he drags the offending piece of clothing down over her ass, leaving it to dangle somewhere around her knees. “Did you?”

He looks over to watch her shake her head, and when he squeezes her bare ass, she whines again. “No.”

“Then you know I’m not done.”

It’s only five more; as dramatic as she’s being, he’s sure she can wait that long. He slaps her ass again and gives her no time to form a verbal response before he repeats his movement. “That was eleven and twelve,” he says, his fingers teasing the red skin on her behind as she squirms. “Good girl.”

Fuck, he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer. He’s painfully hard, and the tight jeans he’s wearing aren’t exactly helping. Lu is squirming in his lap, trying to rub herself on his leg, and okay, maybe he’s made his point. Maybe this is enough for now.  
  
“Sit up,” he tells her, then instantly shucks his jeans and boxers and pulls her into his lap so she’s straddling him. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks completely starved for affection, so he finally leans in to kiss her. She instantly moans into the kiss, opening her mouth for him, and then they’re pushing and pulling at each other, trying to get impossibly closer.  
  
Fuck. How is he ever gonna replicate this feeling when this inevitably ends? That’s kind of been on his mind lately. He spaces out for a minute, buries his face against her neck and only snaps out of it when she shamelessly grinds down against him.  
  
“Stop thinking too hard,” she whispers, biting down on his earlobe, and he grabs onto her hips roughly. It’s fucked, maybe, that she knows him well enough to be able to tell he’s worrying.  
  
He moves her hips so she’s right where he wants her to be, then pulls her down hard and makes himself forget.  
  
She keeps her skirt on the entire time.  
  
//  
  
When he wakes up, Lu is asleep on his chest. She’s naked, and so is he, and he closes his eyes again just so he can savor this moment. Waking up with her is his favorite. It also almost never happens because she can’t just spend the night since she’s got a nosy roommate and— oh _fuck_.  
  
He knew there was something he forgot in his haste to get her naked last night. (A little known thing called _common sense_ , maybe.)  
  
Trying not to wake her, he wiggles out from under her and looks around for his jeans. He finds them, then pulls his phone out of his pant pocket and gets back into bed. It’s three in the morning, so there’s absolutely no way she can head back to the dorms now.  
  
Lu stirs next to him, moves closer to him again in her sleep, and lets out a cute little hum like she’s having a nice dream or something. There’s no point in waking her up, so he quickly sets an alarm for six on his phone to give them time to come up with a plan before class, then puts it away and pulls her close.  
  
He feels her hand trail down his chest, and then she presses a kiss to his shoulder and yawns. “What time is it?”  
  
“Time to sleep,” he replies, running a hand through her hair, and lets his eyes fall closed again.  
  
When his alarm goes off a few hours later, Lu groans next to him. Yeah, he can relate; he’d also rather stay asleep and ignore the outside world a little longer. He reaches for the lamp on his nightstand, then turns over so he’s on his back, and nudges her until she puts her head on his chest and her arm across his stomach.  
  
First period isn’t until 8:30, so they’ve got a decent amount of time. He’s not an early riser, but for the right reasons, he can be persuaded.

Lu stretches her legs out, then pulls one of them up over his hip. “We fell asleep,” she observes, her voice laced with sleep. It’s really fucking cute. “What now?”

Well. That’s a great question. “What are the odds of Marina noticing if you go back now?”

“Knowing her, she probably stayed up all night to catch me when I sneak in. She’s definitely petty enough.”

Yeah, that’s what he thought. He feels surprisingly level headed, despite the gravity of the situation. He should probably be worried, but there’s no point dwelling on that now; it is what it is.

“Okay, so you’re just gonna go to class. If Marina asks, make up a vague excuse or pretend like it’s a secret that only she’s privy to — maybe that’ll help shut her up.”

Lu sits up and grins at him. She’s naked and fucking gorgeous, so he’s pretty sure the rest of the morning is gonna be great. “Aw, I love it when you scheme with me,” she moves so she’s straddling his lap, then rolls her hips. “Come on, we have an hour until I need to be seen at breakfast.”

She’s so ridiculous sometimes, he can’t help but make fun of her a little. “You have breakfast at 7 am?”

“Some of us like to get a head start on things,” she punctuates the statement by reaching down to run a hand over his abs, her fingertips teasing lower. 

Grinning, he grabs her hips and turns them around, pushing her into the mattress. “Some of us can think of better things to spend our mornings doing.”

She ends up getting to breakfast just after seven because they took a little longer in the shower, and he thanks Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior for the millionth time this semester, for having private school be a thing — since the kids wear the same uniform every day, no one will be able to tell she’s wearing yesterday’s clothes.

In biology later that day, she’s sitting next to Marina, who’s actually laughing at something Lu is saying, and he doesn’t fully relax until he gets a text from her after dinner, saying she and Marina bonded over her new top-secret fictional relationship with ‘ _generic unnamed hot guy_ ’ from the boys’ school.

They really need to be more careful.

//

Lu is crazy at the best of times. So Lu during exam period? Picture regular Lu, but on steroids. (Like, even more steroids than she normally appears to be on.)

He doesn’t bother texting her for the first week of exams, mainly because he’s not sure he can handle being around her when she’s this focused on revision and practice tests. She stayed behind after class on Thursday, just to check in and apologize for being MIA, and he assured her it was perfectly fine, especially because she kept nervously tapping her foot and staring at her Apple Watch as though she didn’t even have a minute to spare to speak to him. He’s more than happy to wait this out and go back to hanging out with her when she’s a little more chill.

When she walks into class the following Wednesday to take her biology exam, there are a few students already in their seats, but he still smiles at her and asks, “Ready for the hardest exam of your life?”   
  
He can say that in front of people because he’s this silly with all the kids; no one will think anything of it.  


Lu laughs quietly. “Obviously.”

He’s grading exams — notably not the one she took today — in his office later when there’s a knock on the door. He kind of expected her to drop by, so he calls for her to come in and smiles at her when she does.

This time she makes sure to lock the door behind herself, which he appreciates. They really can't afford to get caught.

“Do you have a minute?”

He considers playing hard to get, but he hasn’t actually really seen her, much less kissed her, in over a week — of course he has a minute for her. He probably has multiple.

“Depends,” he says, leaning back in his chair and watching her sit down on the edge of his desk. “Are you here to freak out about exams?”

“Exams are basically over,” she replies, then offers him her hand to take. When he does, she pulls him up, tugging until he crowds her against the desk and she can wrap her legs around his hip. He’s always taller than her, but he’s towering over her more than usual like this.  
  
He leans down to kiss her, and any thought of maybe actually asking her how she’s doing instantly leaves his mind. If she wanted to talk to him, she probably shouldn’t have let him kiss her.  
  
They get carried away — of course — until she pushes at his chest and ducks out of his embrace to put some distance between them. It’s amusing how neither of them is even remotely capable of not touching the other if they’re too close; hence the need to physically move back so they can talk.  
  
“This isn’t why I came,” Lu says, biting her lip, and now that she’s far enough for him to not be distracted by how kissable her lips look, he can tell she seems nervous. “We need to stop doing this.”  
  
Wait, what? That’s definitely the last thing he expected her to say. “What?”  
  
“Not…” She sighs. “Just for a while. Until winter break, maybe.”   
  
He has no idea what to say to that. Is she testing him? Is that what this is? No part of him wants to put a stop to any of this, but if that’s the conclusion she’s come to, he obviously isn’t gonna force her to keep seeing him. He’s not creepy enough for that.  
  
He really tries and fails to sound calm and collected when he asks, “Why?”  
  
Instead of answering, she takes a step towards him again and pushes him back down onto his chair. She sits down in his lap, her back to his chest, and plays with his hands to keep from fidgeting. (He thinks.)  
  
“Marina is onto us, I think,” Lu says. “She hasn’t really said anything but she keeps hinting at this top-secret relationship I told her I’m having.”  
  
That doesn’t really sound like she’s onto them at all, actually. Maybe Lu is just being paranoid; maybe they can keep going. God, he hopes they can keep this going. He isn’t ready to give her up yet. He noses her neck, trying in vain to distract her. “That doesn’t mean she knows anything.”  
  
“No, but yesterday she asked me for advice. I thought she was joking at first, or trying to get a rise out of me. But she was all oh, _what would you do if society wouldn’t let you be with the person you want most in the world?_ and it freaked me out.”  
  
He chooses to ignore the obvious implication of _Lu_ wanting to be with him. “Maybe she’s gay.”  
  
Lu laughs, then turns around to peck his lips. “She definitely isn’t straight.”  
  
A part of him wants to know how she’s sure about that, but maybe he’s better off not knowing. Lu rests her forehead against his and breathes in deep. Seemingly forgetting about her earlier paranoia, she squeezes his leg and smiles. “Can I come over after dinner?”  
  
There’s no way he’d say no to her, not after being confronted with the very real possibility of all of this having a definite expiration date just minutes ago, so he nods and tells her to go hit the books. She makes a joke about his studying references being horribly outdated, and he calls her abratty teenager, and when she sticks out her tongue at him as she turns to leave, he’s relieved they somehow stopped just short of pushing each other off the metaphorical cliff.  
  
He isn’t sure he could handle the hard landing.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me updating this just a week after the last chapter! Trying to make Sunday updates a thing because this story is obviously pure and chaste enough to be updated on God's special day.


	10. Chapter 10

  
When school finally lets out for winter break, he’s so excited to get off campus and have some semblance of a normal life for a few weeks, he can hardly wait.  
  
A lot of the kids are gonna be leaving campus once the Christmas assembly ends after lunch, and he figures he’ll take his chances and text Lu to come over later. God, he can’t fucking wait to see her.

First things first, though — he’s still got the faculty Christmas party to get through.  
  
This is only his second year of teaching and his second time having to attend one of these, but honestly, if he never has to make stupid small talk with people twice his age who somehow got stuck in the teaching profession again, he really wouldn’t mind. He’s wearing a fucking Santa hat because Cayetana handed it to him and looked kind of adorable with her little elf hat so he relented and put it on, but he’s really not in the mood for this level of nonsense networking.  
  
A cup of mulled wine in hand, he asks Caye, “What are you doing for break?” and watches her smile all big, like she’s super excited about her plans.  
  
“I’m gonna go home and see my family,” she says.  
  
They’re kind of friends, and he feels shitty when he realizes he has absolutely no clue where she’s actually from. “Where’s home?”  
  
“Barcelona.”

Maybe she told him that before, but she doesn’t look offended that he’s asking again. He tells her he can’t quite relate to her excitement at getting to see her family, and she laughs in a way that lets him know he’s definitely being pitied. It’s fine; he doesn’t need to be on good terms with his family.  
  
When she asks him about his plans for the holidays, he gives a vague answer about seeing family and friends in Madrid; he doesn’t actually have a clue what he’s gonna do yet. Chances are he’ll just hang out with Rebeka and ignore his parents’ calls.

In the end, he stays for exactly an hour, has two cups of (spiked) mulled wine and a little bit of eggnog and fills a little Christmas themed tin box with cookies before he leaves. (“For the road,” he jokes when Caye asks how he’ll possibly eat all of these by himself.)  
  
He really has been trying to stay away from Lu. They’re being super discreet. She’s only been back to see him in his office once since she came over after dinner last week, they’ve barely texted, and honestly, if anything Marina should be suspicious about the fact that Lu is spending _too_ much time in her room at this point.  
  
Of course she’s in his kitchen when he gets home — he kind of expected her to sneak in during the party.

“Hey,” he calls from the living room, throwing his jacket down on a chair in the corner. Slipping off his shoes, he skips over to the kitchen, where he can hear music playing.

Lu still hasn’t noticed him, and he takes a moment to linger in the doorway and watch as she loudly sings along to whatever Christmas song is blaring from her phone— one of those annoying ones that gets overplayed every year. She’s changed out of her school uniform and into a simple pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and he loves this look on her, loves knowing she’s comfortable enough around him to not get all dressed up.

She finally turns around, instantly stopping in her tracks when she spots him. _Cute_. Then he flashes her a grin and she bites her lip like she didn’t mean for him to walk in on that little performance. “You sounded great.”

Even though she was clearly just humming along to entertain herself, she looks delighted with the compliment. Grinning back at him, she takes a step closer and grabs him by the shirt. “I guess all the forced church choir singing over the past twelve years has paid off.”

She’s cute, but he’s tired of talking when they could be using what little time they’ve got for... other, more pressing issues. Like, literally pressing against the zipper of his jeans, which are growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. He kisses her, then hoists her up on the kitchen counter and smiles into the kiss when she wraps her legs around his waist.

“I was gonna make hot chocolate,” she protests, pouting a little. He runs a hand up from her thigh to the seam of her sweats and chuckles when she whines. “Can we make some later?”

It takes him a minute to process what the hell she’s even talking about, too busy watching her eyes narrow when his hand presses against her through the cotton of her pants.

“If you still have the energy to make hot chocolate after this, I’m doing something wrong.”

Lu smirks up at him. “Don’t get too cocky, old man.”

Oh, he’ll make sure she won’t be able to walk straight for days if she’s gonna be like this. He’s not gonna let her get away with suggesting he isn’t a man of his word.

Nosing at her neck, he asks, “When are you back again?” and kind of has to force himself not too feel sad about it now. There’s absolutely no point dwelling on the fact that she’s going to be in Mexico for the holidays. It’s not like he would’ve seen her otherwise anyway. (That’s the lie he’s settled on telling himself; of course he would’ve found a way to spend time with her if they’re both in Madrid. He’s a fucking dumbass when it comes to her; he definitely would’ve risked it.)

Lu puts a hand on his shoulder to gently push him backward, then reaches for the bottom of her hoodie and pulls it over her head. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. He’s gonna go fucking crazy if he can’t see her again until the new year. She’s in a simple black lace bralette (she taught him the word last week, and he joked about the student having become the master...) and her body looks fucking unreal. He kind of wants to take his time worshipping every inch of her tonight; make sure she doesn’t forget about him.

Her hand on his forearm makes him look back up to her face, and she’s smirking, but she also looks a little annoyed. Right. He totally forgot he asked about her travel plans. “I get back late on the 30th,” she says, then carefully pops open button after button on his shirt until it’s hanging loosely off his shoulders. Her index finger traces over his chest, then presses into his abs teasingly. “If you don’t have New Year's Eve plans, we could...”

Yeah sure, spending New Year's fucking Eve with the eighteen-year-old he can’t be seen with sounds like a fucking _great_ idea. (It legitimately does, and he hates himself for already thinking of ways to make it happen.)

Enough of this. They can figure this out later. He takes a step back, then pulls her forward by the hand until she’s off the counter and back on her feet, grabbing her wrist roughly as he walks towards his bedroom with her. He’s got her on her back and under him in record time.

“Patience,” he hisses lowly, body hovering over hers without ever really putting any weight on her. She lets out a dramatic cry when his fingers brush the outline of her breasts, spilling over the black lace that’s covering them. Instead of keeping her hands to herself, she sinks one into his hair, trying to pull him down so she can kiss him, no doubt. He shakes his head at her. “Do you even know what the word patience means?”

“Fuck off,” she says, then wraps her legs around his hips for leverage and turns them around. He obviously could’ve stopped her, since he’s big and strong and can basically circle her waist with one of his hands, but he’s curious to see what she wants to do here, so he lets her. “Patience is for people with time to waste.”

Well, she’s not wrong. If she didn’t punctuate the statement by grinding down on him, he probably still would’ve argued her on it anyway. He’s incapable of forming coherent sentences when she’s grinding in his lap like this. Fucking tease.

She reaches for her bra but he’s faster, pushing the material up so he can admire the view. Lu sits back so she can take it off the rest of the way and moans when he leans in to bite at her nipple roughly.

He has all night to tease her. That can probably wait.  
  
Right now he just wants to make her say his name the way she does when she's about to come undone around him, and he knows just how to make it happen.

//  
  
(It’s two in the morning when she nudges him awake after a quick nap. They both just kind of collapsed after her third and his second orgasm of the night, and he still needs about eight more hours of sleep if he wants to feel human again tomorrow.  
  
She’s leaving tomorrow and so is he and he may have overdone it slightly and kept her on edge for hours until he made her come so hard, she literally cried. They both needed some sleep after that, except she clearly bounced back a lot faster than him.  
  
“Can you make us hot chocolate?”  
  
Her voice comes out quiet and inquisitory and adorable, and any hope he still had of just staying in bed and pretending to be asleep is squashed when she turns around in his arms and grabs his face until he reluctantly opens his eyes. “Please?  
  
They did kind of skip dinner, so he lets out a very dramatic sigh — she’s rubbing off on him — and gets out of bed to get them some hot cocoa and a few of the cookies he snuck at the faculty party earlier today. He totally forgot he even brought them home.  
  
When he comes back into the bedroom, Lu has turned the lamp on his nightstand on and she’s in one of his shirts, leaning back against a few pillows with her lags drawn up to her chest.  
  
She gives him the biggest fucking smile he’s ever seen when he hands her the steaming mug of hot chocolate and sets a paper plate of cookies down on the nightstand next to her.  
  
“My hero,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against the mug. “Always around to save the day.”  
  
He likes the sound of that a little too much.)  
  
//

Agreeing to spend Christmas Eve with his parents was a mistake. They’ve barely started eating dinner when his sister, sat next to her fucking goody two-shoes lawyer husband, makes the first snarky remark about how he’s clearly the black sheep of the family.

He’s a teacher at a renowned private boarding school, and yet that still makes him the least accomplished person in the family. It’s not that he really cares, but the way Ana feels the need to bring it up every fucking time he sees her is annoying.

He forks some mashed potatoes into his mouth, then smiles at her and says, “Yeah, well, it’s not like you’ll still have a career after the baby is born,” and ignores the scolding look his mother gives him. So what? If she gets to make these remarks, he totally gets to retaliate. The fact that she’s seven months pregnant isn’t gonna suddenly make him be nice to her.

There’s absolutely no love lost between any of the people sat around the dinner table. Their parents’ love has always been conditional, and he knows he’s walking a fine line of making life choices that are just appropriate enough to keep them from cutting any contact with him. Sometimes he thinks that might be best, anyway.

Lu texts him a selfie halfway through dinner, and she looks really cute in her little black dress and these snowman earrings, her hair up in a tidy bun. His father says, “No phones at the table,” at the same time Ana raises a brow in question as if she’s onto him.

“Finally found someone to take your energy out on, big bro?”

Honestly, he knows all her tricks at this point. She’s so fucking transparent. He knows she’s just trying to get a rise out of him, but that doesn’t mean it’s not totally working.

“I’m sorry, are you saying you’re interested in someone other than yourself?” She rolls her eyes and he grins meanly. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

At least that puts the topic to bed.

He’s back in his car and on his way to Rebeka’s place right after dessert is served, because if he has to be around his family any longer, he might actually go legitimately insane.

Rebe is waiting for him with an open bottle of whisky and two glasses when he unlocks the door.

“Thank fucking god,” he says, then spends the rest of the night drinking away the omnipresent realization of just how much he actually hates his family.

//  
  
Lu FaceTimes him from Cabo, where she’s spending the next few days staying in her family’s beach house after Christmas in Mexico City. She’s on a lounge chair, wearing a very skimpy green bikini, and he laughs when she literally changes to the back camera so he can admire her legs.

“Nice view you’ve got,” he says, and he means the waves he can see crashing against the shore in the back, not her body. That’s nice, too, though. She switches cameras again and smiles at him. “How’s Mexico?”

“Sunny. Boring... Is it weird if I say I actually miss school?”

She’s biting her lip, and even if she does mean classes, he’s gonna choose to think she misses him. He definitely misses her; it’s weird to think it’s only been a week since he last saw her.

“Depends. Do you miss school or me?”

Lu rolls her eyes, then slips one of the straps of her bikini down to distract him. “Look at my tan lines,” she says, and he can’t even see them this up close, but her collarbone looks amazing so he nods encouragingly. God, he wishes she was around so he could bite it the way he knows she likes and maybe mark her up a little.  
  
“Hey,” he says, waiting for her to look back at the camera when she’s fixed her bikini again. “Were you serious about New Year's?”  
  
It’s December 28th, and he’s spent the past week on Rebeka’s couch — save for that one shitty evening at his parents’ place — so he really wouldn’t mind getting away for a few days.  
  
Lu nods, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose like she means business. “I’ll send you my carefully curated list of Airbnb options.”

God, she’s ridiculous. He laughs and figures he can probably tell her that. “You’re ridiculous.”  
  
She giggles, reaching over to take a sip of whatever fresh juice or cocktail she’s drinking. Ugh. He wants to be on vacation, too. This is just cruel.  
  
They’ve texted on and off, but this is the first time she’s actually been able to call since her parents were usually around. It’s not the same as being able to hug and kiss and talk to her in person, but he’s glad they’re catching up.  
  
“Tell me about Christmas,” he says, then grins to himself when she instantly launches into an angry tirade about her stupid racist, sexist grandfather and how he ruined what was, quote, “Already a fucking tense dinner.”  
  
They talk for almost an hour, and when Rebe gets back from the gym and finds him lounging on the couch with a stupid little smile on his face, she definitely makes fun of him.  
  
“Look, I get it, Val.” She hands him a bottle of beer and takes a drag from her own. “She’s cute and all, I’d totally go for her, but it’s not gonna work.”  
  
He’s naive to a fault, so he frowns at her and mutters, “It could work,” under his breath. Of course it wouldn’t, but having her point it out is making him feel petulant; he argues her on it to spite her.  
  
“How? She’ll go off to university and you’ll do long distance and she’ll come stay with you on the weekends? Come on.”  
  
Fuck Rebeka for being levelheaded enough to figure this out for him. It’s a good thing, though, to have her call him out on his shit. He needed the reminder before he lets himself get in over his head.  
  
They’ll have to end this eventually; maybe spending New Year's together can be their last hoorah.

//  
  
Lu suggested a chalet in the mountains, but he doesn’t really feel like driving six hours just to freeze to death in a fucking mountain cabin. Sierra de Gredos regional park is about three hours from Madrid, and it’s definitely rural enough for them to hang out for a few days without being found out. It’ll be cold, too, so if she’s into that part of mountain living, she’ll love it. (He fucking hates the cold.)  
  
The cute house he finds online isn’t huge, but it’s got access to a private jacuzzi and a view of the mountains, which is nice because it’s not like they plan on really doing much while they’re there; he’s not a huge fan of hiking. The views are nice, and on the off chance that they want to actually go outside and see things, they’ll be close enough to the park to go for a little nature walk.  
  
He books it before she even agrees to go, and when he texts her a screenshot of the booking confirmation, she just sends him a thumbs-up emoji, which seems odd. Lu doesn’t use emojis, says they’re for people who have nothing to say, so he figures maybe she’s just in the middle of lunch with her parents or something.  
  
Of course he should be making sure she has a believable cover story for where she’ll be spending the three days he’s booked the house for, but she’s usually got a good handle on this stuff; he’s sure she came up with a good lie. Even if she didn’t, he’s got a feeling her parents wouldn’t actually notice if whatever story she tells them doesn’t check out.  
  
She texts him a picture from the airport on the 30th, saying she’s barely even awake, and then about twelve hours later, another picture of her passed out in what he recognizes to be her bed because he remembers the color of her bedspread.  
  
He’s picking her up at a gas station parking lot twenty minutes from her house tomorrow morning at 10, and it’s already after midnight, so he tells her to get some rest and figures he should probably sleep, too.  
  
Chances are he won’t get to sleep a lot for the rest of the week.  
  
//  
  
The three-hour drive is kind of perfect, in the end. It forces them to spend time with their clothes on, actually catching up, rather than using their bodies to do it. As much as he’s painfully aware that this isn’t gonna last forever, he still really likes talking to her; he’s glad he’s gonna get these three days with her.  
  
After a pit stop at the nearest bigger supermarket for supplies — there are no restaurants in rural mountain ranges — they finally make it to the place she’s jokingly dubbed the _murder house_ around 2 pm.(He gets why, but honestly, it doesn’t even look _that_ murder-y. He would’ve picked a more scenic spot to stab her in, and when he told her that in the car, she told him his murder priorities were all wrong. Whatever.)  
  
When Lu gets out of the car and takes his hand in hers, he almost flinches because he forgot they’re able to just do that here; touch each other in public.  
  
The guy they’re renting the house from looks to be in his sixties, and he smiles at them as they walk up the gravelly path towards the front door.  
  
After some pleasantries, he hands over the keys and shows them the place. It’s definitely as cozy as the pictures made it look. The fireplace is already lit, giving the living room a warm glow, and all the walls covered in old wood paneling contribute to giving it a warm, old people-esque vibe. This is the sort of house he could see himself retiring in. It’s perfect for a few days of relaxation.

“If you and your lovely girlfriend need anything, you have my number.”  
  
Lu squeezes his hand when she hears their host refer to her like that, and he doesn’t think there’s a point in correcting him. The guy is sort of checking her out, too, so Valerio is glad he thinks she’s _his_ ; he won’t dare be creepy to her. And well, he’s old anyway. Let him think what he wants.  
  
The location is really nice, though. It’s in the literal middle of nowhere, and the nearest neighbors are at least a ten-minute drive away. “The perfect place for you to quietly murder me,” Lu jokes when the owner shows them the deck with the hot tub, and Valerio literally has to tell him she was joking because he looks so alarmed.  
  
Once they’re alone, they carry the food they brought inside, and he laughs at her when he realizes she picked up five bottles of wine. They’re only here for two nights, so he’s got a feeling they won’t get around to drinking all of that.  
  
“Well, not having enough would be worse! This way we won’t run out of wine, at least.”  
  
He puts two of the bottles on the wine shelf in the fridge and grins at her. “What, scared you can’t handle me sober?”  
  
“Stop it,” she giggles, then finally takes his hand in hers and leans up to kiss him. It’s been, like, two weeks (11 days, but who’s counting…) since he’s really gotten to touch her, and he’s instantly game. Gesturing to the bag in his other hand, she says, “Put that away. I’ll be upstairs.”  
  
Did she just order him to finish unpacking their groceries so she can go ahead and get naked without him? No way that’s okay with him. He quickly shoves the rest of the stuff they bought — way too much food for three days — into the fridge and runs after her, catching up with her just as she’s reaching for the bottom of her cozy sweater.  
  
He crowds against her back and covers her hands with his, helping her take her top off. She turns around in his arms and grins at him, and of course she wore white underwear — not to look innocent, but to show off her tan. Lu really knows how to dress for the occasion.  
  
Playing with the strap of her bra, he says, “Looking good,” because he knows it’s what she wants to hear. Her grin turns into a full-on smile, and then she’s reaching for him, pulling him down for a kiss.  
  
It’s jarring to realize how much he missed this.  
  
//  
  
They miss the countdown.  
  
He’s never given less of a shit about the clock striking midnight.  
  
He makes them dinner, because he doesn’t really trust her to not set the entire house on fire, and she reluctantly admits the salad and pasta he whipped up is, “Not bad,” which, coming from her, is definitely a huge compliment.  
  
Then, they move to the hot tub, because there really is nothing better than sitting in cozy, warm water while the outside world is freezing. They can see the mountains from here, and the sky is clear so there are a few stars twinkling as well. It’s really fucking… he doesn’t want to say romantic, but it kind of is.  
  
Fuck. He should’ve known better than to take her here. This was such a fucking stupid idea.  
  
Reaching for the bottle of wine on the little built-in tray next to them, she pours them both another glass. It’s New Year's Eve, so they can definitely finish off two bottles of wine between the two of them, right? That’s fine.  
  
“This place is nice,” she says, putting her glass of wine down so she can move closer to him.  
  
He tugs her into his lap, then sneaks a hand across her stomach to keep her close. “Yeah.”  
  
If he’s feeling slightly tipsy, she definitely must be, too, considering she’s roughly half his size. She moves his hand down so it’s resting between her legs and squeezes his arm like a command.  
  
They’re both already naked, because he really didn’t feel the need for modesty when they’re alone in the middle of nowhere, and Lu is clearly no longer annoyed with him for that. If anything, she seems appreciative of the lack of layers between them.  
  
When he brushes his hand across her abs instead, just barely dipping down to tease at her clit, she whines, leaning her head back against his shoulder. This is the perfect position for him to lean over slightly and bite at her neck, and fuck, he loves how intimate it feels. He can feel her pushing back against him, chuckling at her quiet whines as he keeps up the teasing, never quite touching her where she wants him to.  
  
It’s when she finally moans out, “Valerio,” like she’s annoyed enough to use his full name that he finally gives in and pushes two fingers into her and starts moving them at a rapid speed without giving her a chance to really adjust. She literally screams — the good kind of scream — and he’s suddenly glad there are no neighbors in their immediate vicinity.  
  
They take a shower after, and they’re toweling off in the bedroom when she checks her phone and screeches.  
  
“We missed it!”  
  
He pulls on her towel and grins when she fails to secure it in time, leaving her naked for him to stare at. He’s never gonna get tired of just looking at her naked; she’s fucking perfect.  
  
“We missed what?”  
  
Lu pushes at his chest and rolls her eyes. “Midnight! It’s already one.”  
  
Oh shit. He literally forgot it was even New Year's Eve, thanks to the wine and the way she distracted him in the best way possible.  
  
He drops his own towel in an attempt to make his intentions on what they’re gonna spend the next hour doing clear. He got her off in the hot tub, but he figured they could save the rest for a slightly more comfortable location — namely a bed.  
  
Lu lets him push her down on the bed, and then she’s on top of him, kissing him slowly. She pulls away and pouts at him, brushing some hair out of his face. (Yeah, maybe he needs to get a haircut.)  
  
“I wanted to kiss you at midnight.”  
  
He wraps her ponytail around his wrist to pull her back in, then whispers, “You probably were,” and doesn’t let her turn any of this sentimental.  
  
There’s no need to ruin things yet.  
  
//  
  
In the morning, she’s dying to go for a fucking walk, and he’s dying to do literally anything else. They jokingly argue about it in bed for, like, a solid twenty minutes until he takes off for the shower all annoyed.  
  
“Just a short walk,” she proposes, already in full outdoor gear, when he comes back into the room wearing nothing but a towel. Jesus. She’s wearing so many layers, she may as well be headed off to war in Siberia, or something.  
  
He shakes his head. “I fucking hate hiking. The last time I went hiking, my sister pushed me into a tree and I tripped and broke my leg.”  
  
Lu actually laughs, which he’d be offended by if she didn’t immediately cover her mouth with her hand like she feels bad about laughing. Fuck. She _had_ to go and be all cute.  
  
She’s sitting at the edge of the bed, putting on a second pair of socks — do you see his issue with hiking now? It’s fucking cold out there — and he drops his towel and sits down next to her.  
  
He kisses her hair, and she giggles, pulling back.  
  
“Can you put on some clothes?”  
  
Nah. “Can you take yours off instead?”  
  
Of course he relents. She plays dirty; she pouts up at him and murmurs, “You can take mine off later,” and she must know he’d do literally anything if she just looked at him like that, because she grins at him smugly when he finally nods.  
  
Whatever. He could probably use a little fresh mountain air.  
  
Or he could, but it’s cold as fuck. The second they leave the house, he wants to hurry back inside.  
  
“Stop fucking scowling,” Lu says, poking his arm teasingly as she merrily makes her way up the little path they’re following. For a city kid, she’s actually really into all this outdoorsy shit.

  
“I wasn’t really planning on leaving the house, since it’s just you and me for once.”  
  
“Right, but the mountains are literally _right_ there,” she points at them. “It would be a shame to not see any of the cool nature stuff on our doorstep.”  
  
“It’s minus five degrees, Lu.”  
  
She stops walking, and really, she looks fucking adorable with her mittens and her little blue wool hat. Pulling him close by the jacket, she whispers, “We’ll just have to get warmed up in the hot tub after…”  
  
He shakes his head at her and sighs, but she’s already grabbing his hand and walking along, stopping to smile at random things every so often. He’s literally never seen her this happy and comfortable.  
  
It starts snowing right when they make their way up the first few meters of elevation, and before he can even groan about it, Lu lets out this content little hum.  
  
“I love snow,” she says on a sigh, tilting her head back to get a good look at the massive expanse of cliff in front of them. They’re definitely not going up there; he didn’t bring the right shoes for that and it’ll be freezing.  
  
When he doesn’t reply right away, she tugs on his arm and grins. “Don’t you love snow?”  
  
He doesn’t, but she looks super giddy and adorable, so he shrugs and says, “I guess.”  
  
They make it up maybe a hundred meters total — at least that’s what the little path marker says — until he throws a little bit of snow at Lu from behind and grins at her.  
  
“Do you still love it now?”  
  
She pushes him into a little clearing, literally tipping him over until they’re both rolling around in the snow, then rubs a fresh handful of it all over his forehead, making him shiver.  
  
“Of course I do.”  
  
If he catches a cold from all this playing in the snow, it’s worth it for the memory of Lu giggling in delight as she covers his entire body in the stuff alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to believe it's already been 10 chapters of this story! Thank you, everyone, for the comments, kudos and for sticking with me on this in general so far. There's more to come if you're still up for coming along for the ride.


	11. Chapter 11

“There’s no way your favorite book is actually a Jane Austen novel.”

Lu is toying with the necklace he always wears, then shakes her head adamantly, or as adamantly as she can while she’s got her chin resting on his bare chest.

They got back from their walk about an hour ago, both frozen solid, and after a brief stint in the hot tub getting warmed up in bed using body heat just seemed... easier? More practical, certainly, there totally was no other reason for it.

He’s gonna go to fucking hell for doing this, but he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Valerio isn’t fucking stupid, alright? Despite every stupid thing he’s done and agreed to do in the past three months, he’s with it. He sees reason. He fucking knows this stupid fling is on the verge of fizzling out, and he knows he should be proactive about ending it.

One last round of power play, maybe. Prove to her that he gets to call the shots.

Reason and common sense are fairly difficult to access when he’s got a naked, blissed-out Lu on top of him, currently on a very passionate rant about why Emma isn’t just a classic novel but a lesson in female empowerment. He likes it when she goes off on these little tangents and shows her crazy a little. She’s fucking hot, but she’s also opinionated and smart and scarily intense about things; he thinks that’s kind of endearing.

Sharp pain shoots through his arm, and when he winces as he looks over at her, she’s pinching his skin between her nails. “Are you even listening to me?”

Does barely count? He’s pretty sure he’s better off not answering that question at all. He shifts slightly until Lu moves off of him with an annoyed huff, then turns onto his side and runs a hand down from her collarbone to the soft skin between her breasts. If he’s too obvious about using sex to distract her from the conversation, she’ll get pissed, so he uses soft, subtle touches to get her to whine out his name. Then she squirms under his touch, frustrated, and he chuckles meanly when she breathes out, “More.”

See what he means? He successfully got out of telling her he wasn’t paying attention, and now she thinks getting hot and heavy again was her idea. He’s a fucking genius.

He leans over and crowds her against the mattress, marveling at how responsive she is to every single one of the small kisses he presses to the apple of her cheek, her ear, her neck. She sounds absolutely pathetic when she murmurs, “Just kiss me already,” and he presses his lips to hers briefly, giving her no more than a few seconds to kiss him back before he moves lower again.

He’s always been really into making his partners fall apart. Usually, he doesn’t have a preference in how he gets them to do it — he’ll use his fingers, or his mouth or his cock to do it, if the situation permits it. With Lu, he’s quickly learned absolutely nothing gets her to come harder than his mouth on her clit and two of his fingers curled inside her. He’s pretty sure if he timed it, he could literally get her off in less than five minutes, but he’s going for quality over quantity here, so he kisses past her belly button, nosing at the slightly defined V shape of her abs, and pauses.

Predictably, Lu sits up as far as she can while he’s got her pinned down like this, propping herself up on her arms so she can make eye contact and glare at him. Yeah, seeing her get increasingly more angry and frustrated is absolutely part of the fun of this for him. There’s nothing hotter than having her clutching at whatever body part of his she can reach as she practically demands he finish what he started.

He goes to move up the bed again in an attempt to kiss her, but before he gets that far, Lu latches onto his hair roughly, making him hiss out in surprise. She’s fucking horrible at waiting her turn. “And they say _men_ aren’t into foreplay,” he teases, obediently kissing his way back down her stomach until he’s back where she wants him most. God, she’s fucking wet already, he can practically see her dripping. That’s hot.

He hears Lu snort, and then she says, “I’d appreciate foreplay a lot more if you could just fucking get going.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to lean in and give her a cursory lick, just to remind her that he’s very good at taking instructions. Lu bucks he hips up, pushing herself closer to him and he chuckles as he pins her down using his arm.

After another minute or two of teasing her with touches he knows aren’t quite enough, he wipes his mouth on her thigh and grins at her. “You know, let’s go back to talking about Jane Austen. I was really enjoying that conversation.”

Lu instantly moves her leg up in an attempt to kick him with it, and he laughs when she fails miserably. She really should’ve learned that he’s a lot bigger than her by now; if he doesn’t want her to have room to attempt to fight him, she won’t.

“Ask nicely.”

“Fuck you,” she spits out and he raises a brow, still looking up at her from his place between her legs.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

He flicks her clit with his tongue for good measure, just small kitten licks that’ll get her nowhere near coming, and then he pulls back again, a smirk on his face.

She’s pouting now, and fuck, seeing her all petulant and flushed while she’s playing with her breast does something to him. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m mean?” He kisses her hip bone, then bites it. Lu whimpers. “Would a mean person do this?”

When she nods, he lets out a laugh, followed by a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” he draws out the word, then gets going again.

It definitely doesn’t take him more than three minutes until she’s screaming his name.

//  
  
Saying goodbye fucking sucks.

(Yeah, he’s being dramatic.) (But it fucking does.)

It sucked when he had to watch her walk out the door back at school two weeks ago, and it sucks even more now, after spending three entire days with her, completely cut off from civilization. Best three days of the year for him, honestly.

He kind of wishes he’d never decided to go on this trip with her. He fucking liked her before, but now he knows all these stupid things about her, like that she prefers her pasta slightly overcooked as opposed to al dente (fucking psychopath) or what she looks like after way too much sleep, her hair a total fucking mess and the outline of the pillow etched into her cheek.

And look, he was gonna talk to her today. He was gonna tell her they had a good run, and that these past few months were fun, but that they couldn’t continue this when school starts up again. He had a whole list of reasons prepared because he just knows she’s gonna try to fight him on this; he’d be disappointed if she didn’t, frankly. So he was ready to do it, ready to break her heart and his right along with it, and then... Then she fell asleep an hour into the drive and she looked so fucking cute, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her at all. He’s a coward.

When he gets back to Rebeka’s, she’s sitting in front of the TV, an adult coloring book in her lap. Apparently, she didn’t hear him come in, because he used his key, and he takes a moment to smile at how intensely she’s focusing on the flower pattern she’s coloring in. Her hair’s in a super messy top knot, and she’s wearing a shirt he’s pretty sure he left here a while ago and nothing else and yeah, she’s still hot. It’d reflect badly on him if his high school ex turned occasional hookup was ugly now, so he’s glad.

One of the Harry Potter movies is on TV and Rebe is quietly reciting the lines along with the characters, so it’s obvious she still hasn’t noticed he’s here. He sneaks up on her, tugging on her hair as he says, “Hey Luna,” and she kind of flinches, then turns around and hits him with her coloring book.

“‘Sup, Romeo,” she says once she’s recovered from the shock. “Happy New Year. How was your trip with jailbait?”

He punches her in the shoulder and walks around the couch so he can sit down next to her, then shrugs. “You too. It was great.”

She squints at him, then puts away the coloring book and pauses the movie. “Why are you moping around?”

The last person he wants to talk to about this is... well, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone about this, honesty, but especially not Rebeka. She’s too fucking levelheaded, and she knows him too well, so that’ll just leave him feeling like she can read his mind.

“You know why.”

Instead of pushing him to explain further, she puts an arm around him and pulls him closer, sighing as she says, “I know.”

At least he’s got a solid source of emotional support.

//  
  
The night before he has to head back to campus, he gets unreasonably drunk. Rebeka doesn’t have to work tomorrow, so she very kindly offers ( _insists_ ) to get drunk with him.

Tequila definitely makes the world a better place. He’s pretty sure if everyone was drinking a little more of it, there’d be a lot fewer wars fought in the world.

Rebeka is the one who cuddles up to him, but he’s the one who drunkenly turns it into something else. Maybe if he just gets Lu out of his system, the whole ‘having to end this’ thing won’t seem so bad anymore.

It’s fucking stupid of him to even try, but he’s three or four shots of tequila past giving a shit.

Of course she kisses him back. They’ve kind of got an unwritten rule about that — they don’t do this when one of them is in a serious relationship, but unless they’re just not in the mood, they don’t really tend to push each other away when one of them makes the first move. Rebeka climbs into his lap, her hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck in the way he loves, and for a few minutes, he just lets himself kiss her. It’s comforting in a way he always forgets — stolen moments with Rebeka have been a constant in his life for almost as long as he can remember.

They still fit well together. Their bodies know exactly what to do, making this mundane in the best of ways. It’s not new and exciting and intense, but that’s not what he’s after anyway.

Rebeka is the one who finally pulls away, grabbing his chin between her fingers as she regards him carefully. “You don’t wanna do this,” she says, maybe because she wants to give him a chance to change his mind before this goes any further. It’s an oddly sweet gesture, in the midst of all the heated kissing and lip biting and hair-pulling.

Softly, he grabs her wrist and moves her hand away from his face, then kisses her again, slower this time.

He definitely wants to do this. He needs to do this.

(Being with her again is fun. It’s familiar and playful and amazing because he knows they’ll just go back to being friends tomorrow, without it being awkward or acting like it never happened.)

It’s not even that he regrets it in the morning — he doesn’t. He feels guilty about that until Rebeka sits up in bed and grins at him, still completely naked. “It’s not cheating if you’re not together,” she says, reading his mind once again.

His head is throbbing with the irregular beat of a hangover and he probably should get going in two or three hours, but he doesn’t feel like rushing out of here just yet.

He tugs Rebe close, then wraps her up in a hug and lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

She starts laughing, and honestly? If he didn’t know she meant well he’d be annoyed by that. “No shit, Sherlock.”

//

In a way, hooking up with Rebeka sort of emboldened him to actually try and sit Lu down so they can figure out the fucking mess they’re in. Being rational isn’t his strong suit, but it’s definitely one of Lu’s when she isn’t busy throwing rationality out the window to be with him, so he’s sort of hoping she’ll take it well.

Lu doesn’t get back to campus until tomorrow, which gives him a whole day to psych himself out and rehearse what he wants to say to her.

The second she sneaks over after dinner and closes the door behind herself, he forgets he ever wanted to say anything at all. It’s the smile on her face that does it; it’s so vibrant, he totally gets distracted and ends up walking over to crowd her against the door as he kisses her hello.

Sleeping with her before basically breaking up with her is a shitty thing to do. That doesn’t mean he can stop himself from doing it. He almost makes it weird, because he keeps thinking about how this might be the last time he ever gets to fuck her, and he spends an obscene amount of time just kissing her, trying to will himself to commit this feeling to memory.   
  
It’s good, because he’s pretty sure there’s no way they’d ever have _bad_ sex, but it feels off. He's sure she can tell, too.

They’re both still catching their breath, and Lu is on top of him, kind of smiling a little when he thinks he’s finally ready to just come out and say it. “Lu,” he starts, and her eyes flick up to his, an unreadable expression in them.

“We need to stop doing this.”

Wait, what? That wasn’t how he saw this going. He was gonna be the one who sees reason, who says they _need to_ _stop_ , not that they _can’t keep doing this_ because they both know that isn’t true; they could.

He’s a little gobsmacked, trying and failing to hide the surprise in his voice when he says, “What?”

She’s literally naked on top of him, and even though he was about to have this exact same conversation with her just a minute ago, that feels ridiculous now. They shouldn’t still be touching like this if they’re gonna talk about putting an end to things, so he grabs her hip and attempts to push her off of him, only for her to lock her thighs around his hips and clutch him tight enough, he couldn’t move her if he tried.

Lu sounds levelheaded when she speaks again, and it freaks him out, how she’s talking about this like it’s just another student council budget issue. “That’s what you were gonna say, right? Well, I agree. It’s okay.”

Is it, though? Now that it’s real, he isn’t really sure whether this is okay.

“Do we need to talk about this?” He kind of thinks they do, but then again, he wouldn’t know where to start.

“What’s there to talk about? We had fun, but this isn’t gonna last, and now we’re being responsible and proactive by ending it before either of us can get hurt.”

He’s definitely hurt now. She’s right, and he knows it. Swallowing his pride, he wills himself to nod solemnly, his eyes focusing on anything but her. If he looks her in the eye, he might actually cry or something, which would be embarrassing and incredibly counterproductive.

“I slept with Rebeka.”  
  
It’s petty, maybe, but he wants to see if he can get a reaction out of her. All she does is sit up a little (giving him a great view of her tits, fuck, he’s gonna miss them) and stare at him, like she’s processing his words.

“I get it. I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

Okay, now she’s actually freaking him out. All this has been way too levelheaded and timid to really be coming from the heart; there’s no way she’s actually this cool about breaking up with him, right? Not that they were together, not that there’s anything formal to break off but... still. This can’t be all she has to say.

He decides to bait her a little. “You’re one of the most possessive people I’ve ever met. You really don’t care that I fucked someone else?”

“I’m glad you did, actually. I’m glad you have someone to—,” she trails off, licking her lips. Maybe this _is_ hard for her after all. “Anyone’s a better match for you than Cayetana.”

All of this is surreal. Instead of taking this conversation further, he grabs her hand, then pulls her forward until she gets the hint and leans down, their lips almost touching.

Her eyes are glazed over, and he feels her grind down against him. Yeah, he has no idea how either of them is turned on right now; maybe they really are cut from the same cloth. Lu fucking bites at his jaw, then whispers, “Don’t you think breakup sex is a little too cliché?”

“Sure,” he says, grabbing her neck and leaning in the rest of the way. “But it’s also kinda fun.”

He doesn’t waste any more time waiting for her to agree. If this really is the last time he gets to have her like this, he’ll make it count. Before she manages to reply,he’s already leaned forward and claimed her lips in a desperate kiss, turning them around and pinning her down with a little more force than strictly necessary. 

This goodbye hurts a little more than the others.

//

Seeing her in class is literal fucking torture.

For the first week back at school, he can tell she’s trying not to even make eye contact when she walks into his classroom, and when she’s forced to actually speak up and address him during a presentation, she glosses over the pause where she clearly realized she can’t just call him Val. No one else in the room even notices, but he does, and they’re in the same boat here; this fucking sucks. He gives her a solemn nod and smiles when she goes back to nailing her presentation.

She takes her time packing up her books and notes after class, then gestures for Carla to go ahead without her and he’s irrationally nervous for this — he hasn’t been alone with her since she was at his apartment on Sunday. That was five days ago. He has no clue how to act around her now.

Once the last student has filtered out of the classroom, she stops in front of his desk and flashes him a reluctant smile.

“Everything okay?”

He asks it primarily because he wants to be the bigger person here; he wants to be the one who can act like things are fine even when they’re fucking weird.

Lu nods, clutching her biology book to her chest, and he kind of hates how uncomfortable she looks.

“Can we still be friends?”

He’d laugh if he didn’t think she’d be upset with him.

“If you tell me how,” he starts, running a hand through his hair. “Then sure, we can try.”

She seems happy with that answer, and he wants to kiss her so badly. She’s got that tiny little smile on her face, the one she likes to flash when she’s satisfied with an outcome but doesn’t want to show it, and that’s kind of adorable.

Lu turns around, then looks back at him over her shoulder and says, “I’ll be in touch.”

He selfishly hopes she won’t be.

//

He settles back into his usual routine. He goes for a long run most nights, starts reading books for fun again and sometimes he even attempts to cook more ambitious meals, if only to have something to do.

Rebeka seems concerned, and in their weekly phone calls to catch up, he makes sure to paint a clear picture of how okay he’s doing — he has his shit together. Of course he misses being with Lu, but he’s pretty sure anyone would miss having a regular sexual partner that happens to be really fucking good in bed.

“She’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll really be able to move on.”

That’s sound advice, but it doesn’t change the fact that graduation is five months away. That’s not exactly _soon_ in his book. And it’s not like... He doesn’t want to _not_ see her around anymore — sure, he may not be able to spend any real time with her now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he likes having her close-by to keep tabs on her.

He makes a vague excuse to hang up, then goes for a longer run than planned and ignores how even the fucking short cut he takes through the woods reminds him of Lu because they ran down this path together once.

//

They don’t talk to each other outside of class for almost two weeks.

On a Friday afternoon at the end of January, he’s in his office, finishing up some grading when the door swings open, slams closed and Lu practically runs towards him, throwing herself into his lap so enthusiastically, they end up rolling backward in his chair. Her knees land on either side of him, and she’s kissing his lips, then his cheek, then any other part of his face she can reach.

The huge grin on her face alone is making him not want to ask what the hell she thinks she’s doing here — he’ll just enjoy it while it lasts.  
  
“Okay. Hi,” he says while laughing a little as she sits back on his legs.

“I got in,” she whispers, and it’s only now that he realizes she’s clutching a piece of paper in her hand. “Fucking Oxford, Val, can you believe it?”  
  
Her eyes are super bright, and she’s biting her lip like she’s waiting for his reaction.

He never doubted for even a second that she’d get into pretty much any university she applied to, so he just grins at her. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

Lu fucking beams at him. This is actual torture.  
  
He does mean it; of course he’s happy for her. She’s destined to do great things. Of course, that also means she’ll be impossibly far away from this tiny little town in a matter of months, and this, her in his lap, clutching onto him like her life depends on it, is going to end. Well, like, _actually_ end. Because they did technically agree to end this already, but, you know, semantics.  
  
This is the kind of reality check he’s been waiting for.

“Let’s go back to your place,” she says, getting up again. He’s about to protest when she reaches for his hand and gives him a pleading look. “I wanna celebrate.”  
  
This is risky. It’s barely even 4 pm, and chances are there will be people around on campus who might catch them if they leave so closely behind one another. But she kisses him softly, then walks out the door without looking back and this already feels different. He doesn’t think it’s his place to say anything that might fuck it up.  
  
//  
  
“I’m moving to England,” she says sometime after one in the morning. She says it like it’s taken her this long to fully grasp the reality of the situation. He watched her text her roommate earlier, to ensure no one’s going to be concerned about her wellbeing.  
  
He definitely is.  
  
Well, he’s mostly concerned about himself and having to give her up, which is selfish but also technically about her, and the sad little look on her face is doing nothing to make him feel better.  
  
“You are.”  
  
She turns over so she’s on her side facing him, and he tugs the comforter up around her shoulder. They’re always joking about how she’s somehow never cold while he tends to be freezing his balls off, and when she shrugs the sheets off, he cracks a small smile.  
  
“So we’re really gonna…” she trails off like she’s bracing herself for what comes next. “Are we ending this?”  
  
“I guess so,” he says. He hears her let out a sharp breath, and when he looks away from the ceiling he was staring at and sees her face, she’s just staring back at him. “What? We are, right?”  
  
Fucking sue him for sounding the slightest bit hopeful about the possibility of this not being the end. It’s a fucking long shot, but he had to try.   
  
They’ve had this conversation before, but this time it feels worse. Like the last time they did this was just a practice run for the real thing. Lu’s eyes get all shiny and he would love to get angry and tell her this is her fault for fucking pursuing him in the first place, for flirting and making him give in to her. But it isn’t, and it wasn’t, and he can’t make her feel bad for leaving when there was never any other outcome to this whole situation in the first place. He can’t blame her for having the audacity to maybe make him care about her.  
  
Lu takes a deep breath, and then she sits up, holding the sheets to her chest like she’s suddenly concerned about modesty. “We both knew it was a bad idea to do this.” She lets it linger, lets her words sink in before she goes on. “Continuing it would be a terrible idea.”  
  
He moves up against the headboard so they’re at eye level. “Especially when you’ll be gone and no one can ever know anyway.” She nods, which makes her hair finally come out of the terribly messy bun it was in, and he tugs on it, trying to focus on combing his fingers through it instead of the fact that she’s clearly on the verge of crying. “We should probably stop before you do something crazy like fall in love with me.”  
  
That makes her laugh, and she moves closer so she can rest her head on his shoulder.  
  
“Why can’t you be younger,” she whispers, and he nudges her elbow with his hand, then grabs it. Not the most intimate place to be touching her in, but he wants to, anyway. He just wants to touch her in whatever place he can reach.  
  
“Maybe you should be older,” he suggests instead, turning this into a little bit of a game, to make this easier on them. They’re good at fighting and competing; not so good at admitting there were real feelings involved in this stupid fling they never should’ve engaged in. She punches his shoulder, then stares off into the distance and he knows she’s fighting tears. He can tell she’s not the kind of girl who ever lets others see her cry, so he just hugs her closer and breathes out her name.  
  
He kind of realizes he’s never been in a serious enough relationship to warrant this sort of tearful breakup. He’s never done this part. It feels fucked that the only adult relationship he’s ever really attempted to be in was a fucking inappropriate fling, and now the grand conclusion to it all feels so monumental and grave and sad, he might as well be divorcing his wife of ten years even though they’re both still in love with each other.  
  
He feels Lu’s breathing get shallow, but then she takes a big gulping breath and he’s pretty sure there are tears running down her cheek, can feel them dripping from her chin onto his chest.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay.” There isn’t anything else to say. He just lets her take her time, lets her trace random letter constellations on his chest until she finally drifts off.  
  
It takes him a little longer to fall asleep.  
  
They don’t hook up again, even though he can tell they’re both tempted. In the morning, he brings her pancakes and coffee in bed, and he knows she’s smiling because he remembered she eats her pancakes with a spoon, like a fucking weirdo. (“So I can get a better syrup-to-pancake ration, Val!”)  
  
He kisses her goodbye at the door, and she clings to him tighter than she ever has, like she knows this goodbye might actually stick. She jokes that she isn’t gonna miss having to cover up the marks on her neck when he traces the one he left last night with his finger, and he pretends he can’t tell she’s lying through her teeth.  
  
When he sees her at school on Monday, she avoids his eyes and he avoids thinking about the unrealistic scenarios in which they can somehow go back to seeing one another without doing more damage than what’s already been done.  
  
//  
  
He gets used to missing her, and every day, it becomes a little easier to treat her like he would any other student in class.  
  
When time comes to sign up for spring sports, Lu picks soccer, and he knows it’s because he’s not the one coaching that team. He sees her after practice sometimes, when he’s leading the lacrosse team out of the gym and onto the field.  
  
Every time, he fights the urge to tell her he wouldn’t mind being tackled by her. (What? She looks fucking hot with her knees all scraped up and her cleats ruined from a mixture of grass and — presumably — kicking other girls too hard.)  
  
He moves offices at the end of March, just because one of the older teachers retired and their bigger office near the gym opened up, and he didn’t even realize Lu noticed until he walks into his office one morning and finds a little potted cactus on his desk. The note she left just says _‘because I know you would kill a real plant’_ and she signed it with her initials only, and he smiles at her for a second longer than he normally would in class that day. He’s sure she gets that he’s thanking her.  
  
The new normal sucks.  
  
Sometimes he sees her walking towards him in the halls and he actually finds a reason to turn around or takes off in another direction. He’d feel bad about that if the look on her face didn’t tell her she’s at least considering doing the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Have some angst. xoxo - Santa


	12. Chapter 12

He watches her sometimes, when he finds her in the stands at lacrosse games, usually sitting with Carla. In his weaker moments, he selfishly hopes she’s here to watch him, not to cheer on her friends. (Is she sitting right in front of him on purpose?)  
  
It’s weird. He’s feeling more and more contradictory these days — he obviously wants to see Lu happy. There’s no point in both of them moping around. But when she’s laughing with her friends in the stands, or high-fiving Guzmán while he throws an arm around her shoulder after a good game, Valerio finds himself thinking he wants to be the one making her smile like that.  
  
They don’t really talk anymore. She’s happy, which is awesome and exactly what he wants for her. It’s when their eyes meet in class that he can tell she’s actually feeling the same way he is — sort of frustrated, and not just in a sexual way, that they had to end this. Annoyed that they’re both too smart to keep this whole thing going until she graduates.  
  
But it’s fine.  
  
He’d be lying if he said he’s moping around. That’s not really something he’s capable of. He works out a lot, hangs out with Caye and sometimes Omar, and before he knows it it’s April.  
  
Two more months until he never has to see Lu again. He hopes he’ll _get_ to see her again after that.  
  
God, he’s never had issues moving on before. He has no clue why he’s still stuck on her.  
  
He goes on a date with one of Caye’s yoga friends from the nearby town in May, because she insisted they’d get along. The girl is nice, hot even, but he just can’t get himself to care right now. When Caye asks about the date, he jokingly tells her it wasn’t gonna go anywhere because he’s not into blondes, and it takes him a second to realize why she’s laughing. _Right._ He’s glad they’re friends now.  
  
Anyway, point being: Things are fine, life goes on, he still mostly has a good time.  
  
He just knows he’d be having a better time if Lu was around.  
  
//  
  
The problem with being young and generally liked by students and teachers alike is people always come to him with stuff like this.  
  
There’s a senior trip to Prague or Budapest or one of those Eastern European capitals teenagers like to go to get drunk, and Cayetana knocks on his door two weeks before takeoff to get him to join her as second chaperone.  
  
He doesn’t even think about Lu until the end of the exchange, after he’s already agreed to go — that’s how well he’s doing in avoiding these thoughts about her. Anyway, why would he turn down a free trip? It’s not like there’s gonna be any actual chaperoning to do.  
  
Caye’s on his couch, pouring them both a glass of wine.  
  
“Why are they sending chaperones? The kids are all 18, I’m pretty sure they don’t want us to be around to witness all the drunken debauchery.”  
  
She grins at him. “Do I really need to explain the whole premise of private school to you again?”  
  
Yeah, no, he gets it. The school is sending teachers along so parents who pay the school thousands of euros a year in tuition feel comfortable letting their kids go on what is essentially just a five-day binge drinking adventure.  
  
“How many kids are going?”  
  
“It’s just the senior girls. Some of them didn’t sign up because—,” he interrupts Caye just because he can.  
  
“Because they don’t have friends.”  
  
Making fun of the kids in private is the only thing that’s keeping him sane these days. He’s allowed. He doesn’t even mean it, honestly, even if it’s probably true.  
  
Caye elbows him in the ribs, but she’s also laughing, so… Yeah, he’s right. “Hey! No, because they didn’t feel like going.”  
  
Right, sure, whatever. “Because of what I said.”  
  
“You’re horrible,” Caye laughs. “But thanks. At least I won’t be on my own with a dozen of barely legal teens looking for their next hookup.”  
  
For some reason, _that’s_ what makes him think of Lu. He’s picturing her in a criminally tiny dress, sufficiently drunk, being hit on by obnoxious older men. God, and he just knows she’d play along, too, even if it’s just for shits and giggles. The girl fucking craves male attention.  
  
But he’s already told Caye he’s going, and he doesn’t even know whether Lu is coming along, so he’ll just have to play this one by ear.  
  
“Wait, which city are we going to again?”  
  
Caye rolls her eyes so hard, he’s pretty sure he broke her. She didn’t use to be this unrefined around him, and he kind of loves that she’s proven she’s actually a cool adult with a personality these days.  
  
“Maybe I should’ve asked someone else,” she teases, then tops up his wine glass, and he doesn’t think about the trip for the rest of the night.  
  
//  
  
He’s not really the most well-traveled person. Most of his summers as a teenager were spent in Chile visiting family, and when he was old enough to decide what to do with his time off, he was so over constantly being gone for long chunks of the year, he didn’t feel the need to be super adventurous. In university, he and Rebeka did a little trip around Scandinavia once, and he’s been to Switzerland on a few high school ski trips, but that’s kind of it. Eastern Europe is new territory for him.  
  
(“ _Central_ Europe, Val,” Cayetana corrects him at the airport. “My guidebook says Hungarians are really particular about that.”)  
  
The school rented a bus to get everyone to the airport (of course) and he’s not surprised to see Lu walk over with Carla in tow, dragging a small suitcase behind her. Not that he knew she was going on the trip, but he kind of had a hunch.  
  
He chickened out of texting her to ask if she was coming along several times during the past few days. Every time he was ready to do it, he ended up realizing he shouldn’t be the one to fuck this up for them. They’ve managed for almost four months; throwing all that away just to give him a chance to mentally prepare to have to be around her for a few days seemed a little pointless.  
  
Lu glances at him when Carla isn’t looking, just gives him this meek little smile, and he smiles back at her.  
  
If this was last year, he’s sure she would’ve found an excuse to sit in the front of the bus with him. It almost hurts to think about how she isn’t looking for excuses anymore. _God_. It’s too early for these depressing thoughts.  
  
Instead of letting himself go down that rabbit hole, he busies himself with checking names off the attendance list Caye handed him earlier and puts on his most chipper, fake teacher smile.  
  
Five days is nothing.  
  
//

He’s left with a surprising amount of downtime throughout the entire trip. Essentially, he and Caye come up with touristy shit to do during the day, and the kids can all decide whether they’d like to join or just go do their own thing.

Lu has this weird fascination with recent history, and he was sure she’d come along on their visit to the House of Terror, this little museum discussing Hungary’s history of socialism and nazi occupation. It’s day three of the trip, and he’s honestly barely seen her so far, which is for the best. He knows, from Instagram, that she spent yesterday shopping with Carla, and the day before that on a little river booze cruise. (Her Instagram is public, and he may have made a burner account just to keep up with her life. He hopes she doesn’t know it’s him creeping on her.)

It’s literally just him, Lu, Marina and Cayetana going because the rest of the kids are uncultured (or more interested in cheap booze) and when they meet in their hotel lobby and start on the brisk fifteen-minute walk to the museum, it seems the four of them embrace the weirdness and naturally split off into twos. Marina and Caye look friendly, and he actually thinks that makes a lot of sense — the redhead definitely strikes him as artsy.

Lu falls into step with him, and he glances at her before he decides he’ll let his guard down for a bit. Caye and Marina are walking several feet ahead of them, so they’re out of earshot, and it’s a gorgeous late spring day — he’s in a good mood. They can catch up without turning it into a whole thing.

“Kinda had a feeling the promise of authentic Russian propaganda would get you to actually wanna hang out with me.”

It’s a lame thing to say, but she still smiles at him, then does her signature eye roll and he really fucking wishes things were different. God, she’s fucking pretty when she smiles.

Lu looks up at him and grins. “We missed you at the pub crawl last night.”

“You did not.”

“Fine. I did.”

Okay, so _she's_ turning this into a thing; at least she’s being upfront about it.

“How many of you are gonna catch STDs on this trip? God, please tell everyone to use protection, I don’t think your parents would ever forgive us if one of you got pregnant.”

Obviously bringing up the fact that she very well might be having sex with random people on this trip is risky, but he felt the need to remind her of his role here; he’s just her teacher, chaperoning a trip that will definitely result in a couple of them missing in action due to alcohol poisoning.

Lu looks away from him for a second, checks to see if Marina and Cayetana are still keeping their distance, then reaches for his hand and says, “You know I don’t want anyone else.”

Fuck. He did not need to hear her say that. It doesn’t really help that he hasn’t actually gotten laid in four months. Absentmindedly, he wonders if she’s been fucking other people, and he tightens his grip on her hand, anger coursing through his veins at the thought of that.

If he’s being honest, he thought the only way he’d let himself get close to her on this trip was after a couple of drinks. Neither of them is drunk now. Instead, they’re in public, and his colleague is literally walking a couple of steps away, talking to another student. It’s a whole new level of careless.

He lets go of her hand, then asks a couple of basic questions about the museum he already knows the answers to, just because he’s sure she did her research. Thankfully Lu doesn’t mention their almost-maybe-sorta fuck up and keeps an easy conversation going for the entirety of their visit, and when she asks Caye to take a picture of the two of them and Marina, posing in front of a wall of Soviet war propaganda posters, he puts an arm around both girls.

A picture to remember this by.

They grab lunch after, and it’s honestly a really chill day. Lu and Marina get along these days — he doesn’t want to know what happened there — and he and Caye are both young enough to not be totally out of the loop when the girls start talking about this hot actor they both like that’s apparently shooting a movie in Budapest right now.

Lu texts him when they’re all in the elevator heading up to their hotel rooms, the two of them standing behind Marina and Cayetana. He feels her hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans as he gets out his phone to read her message.

_Come out with us tonight._

No question mark, no _please_ — she’s not really asking.

He reaches behind himself to remove her hand from his pocket, then glances at her and nods reluctantly. For the rest of the remaining three floor elevator ride, he tries to look anywhere but at her. If he let himself chance a glance, he’s sure she’d have that little satisfied smile on her face.

That smile always makes him want to devour her, so he figures he’s better off not knowing it’s there.  
  
A part of him is kind of excited to see she’s reverted back to her old ways.

//

He calls Rebeka the second he’s back in his room. He needs someone to talk some sense into him, and she’s kind of the only person who knows about what’s going on, not to mention the only friend he’s got who’s ever able to get through to him when he’s being fucking dumb. And oh boy, is he about to be _fucking_ dumb.

“Hey Romeo,” she singsongs in greeting, and he wonders if she knows what he’s calling her about. No way. She doesn’t even know he’s on this trip. “Are you calling to chat or do you need me to yell at you?”

In fairness, those are the only reasons he ever calls.

“I’m in Budapest, chaperoning the senior trip.”

Rebeka chuckles. “Yelling it is then. Have you fucked her yet?”

For someone who knows how much he’s been struggling these past few weeks, she’s way too nonchalant about the whole thing. Maybe she’s just more comfortable knowing he’ll inevitably fuck up — she knows him well, and she’s never tried to scold him for his mistakes, even the colossal ones.

“I don’t think I should.”

“But you will.”

“Fuck you,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Look, do you want my shitty advice on this? It’s really bad, you’ve been warned.”

Rebeka’s idea of shitty advice is usually still ten times more practical than anything he could come up with, so he sighs impatiently, which she takes as her cue to go on.  
  
“You’re never gonna see her again after next month. Do what feels right.”

“Wow, that is _objectively_ shitty advice.”

“I did warn you.”

Lu sends him the picture they took at the museum earlier, except she’s obviously gone through the trouble of cropping Marina out, and he decides Rebeka is right.

It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little more time with Lu before they go their separate ways.

//

He’s not gonna fuck her again. That’s the conclusion he comes to.  
  
(What, you don’t believe him? He’s not.)

There’s a reason they’ve both been mostly okay after an initial period of weird longing, and it’s definitely because they’ve stayed the fuck away from each other. It’s because he can barely remember how she felt under him, on top of him, all over him. He’s been trying not to remember.

So yeah, he’s fine with talking to her, hanging out a little while they’re here, but he’s not going to let himself fall into bed with her. That would just be rubbing salt into the wound at this point.

They all go for dinner, and then a couple of drinks after, and he mostly sticks with Caye. Lu, Marina and Carla (what a trio...) come over at some point and say something about wanting to see them do shots, and he shoots Lu a little look in warning when she catches his eye. Fucking dangerous game she’s playing.

Anyway, he figures they can humor the kids for a while. He orders a whole tray of tequila shots — no, he’s not gonna be a good influence on anyone on this trip — then throws one of them back without any salt or lime or flinching.

Lu looks impressed, and Marina is grinning at her like they planned this. He smiles at Caye, then tells her it’s her turn and watches her reluctantly sip from one of the shot glasses. It takes her a while, and he ends up laughing, says, “Wow, stop being lame,” which gets a giggle out of the three girls sat across from them.

Most of the kids want to go to a club later. That he’s _definitely_ skipping — going clubbing with all these barely legal teens would be creepy as fuck. They’d probably put it on Instagram or Snapchat or whatever fucking social media kids are into these days and he’d come back to school next year with that whole thing hanging over his head. There’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen. 

It’s around eleven, and he can tell the kids are about to head out. He isn’t even drunk, thankfully, and he’s been watching Lu all night — she’s barely had three drinks. He only noticed because he’s looking out for her.  
  
His phone goes off, and it’s Lu, telling him she and Marina are heading back to the hotel. That’s surprising; she doesn’t seem like the type to miss out on a night of clubbing. Right now she’s talking to Carla, her head resting on the blonde’s shoulder as they whisper about something or other.  
  
He doesn’t want to know why she felt the need to share that info with him, but this late into the night he isn’t sure he can be bothered to care.  
  
If she’s going back, he’s definitely going with them. It’s not a long walk, but it’s pretty late and he doesn’t know whether their hotel is in a shitty neighborhood. It’s a five star hotel, so probably not, but you know, safety first.  
  
When he turns to Cayetana to let her know he’s gonna leave, she’s already grabbing her phone and purse.  
  
“Heading back too?”  
  
Caye nods. “It’s been a long day.”  
  
Yeah, it kinda has been. He really didn’t do shit other than go to that museum and walk around a bit, but all the mental gymnastics he’s been doing to justify being around Lu this much have left him feeling kinda tired.  
  
He chats with Lu and Marina on the walk back, talking about their plans after school, and Lu obviously uses it as an opportunity to humblebrag.  
  
“Oxford,” she says, sounding like she’s in literal awe of herself. Fucking adorable. “That’s it, that’s the plan.”  
  
He laughs. “Not sure you need any more plans after that.”  
  
Marina elbows Lu, who shoots the redhead a look, and he thinks that’s cute, too — seeing them actually get along. “You better come back to Madrid to visit me.”  
  
“Oh, you’re staying in Madrid?” He’s not asking to be judgmental, it’s just rare for Las Encinas graduates to _not_ move to some foreign country under the guise of getting a good education.  
  
Marina nods, then smiles at Caye who’s been pretty quiet for the whole walk back. “Cayetana helped me get into art school.”  
  
“Stop,” Cayetana says, and she sounds genuinely flustered. It’s probably the alcohol. “You did all the hard work.”  
  
“Doesn’t mean I could have done it without you.”  
  
It figures that students are absolutely obsessed with Cayetana — she’s kind, and caring, and too nice to say no when she’s asked to help with things. Marina certainly seems to have taken a liking to her.  
  
Lu is walking right next to him, and she shoots him a look as she glances at Caye and Marina, like she finds all this amusing, too. At least it’s not just him.  
  
Back at the hotel, they all say their goodbyes and head to their separate rooms, and he’s actually shocked Lu doesn’t instantly come knocking on his door. He was kind of hoping she would.  
  
He drifts off with the TV blaring the Hungarian dub of Grey’s Anatomy and doesn’t wake up until it’s time for breakfast.  
  
//  
  
He wakes up to a missed call from Lu and two texts. Shit.  
  
The first text was sent around midnight, so probably right after he passed out. Then she called at 12:30, and finally texted _guess I’ll just keep myself company_ at 12:37 and he honestly doesn’t even know whether he’s upset or glad he wasn’t awake to have her over.  
  
Maybe it’s for the best.  
  
Today’s their last full day here, and they’ve got a lot planned, so he heads to the bathroom for a quick, cold shower and ignores how painfully hard he’s been ever since he realized he might’ve missed out on a chance to fuck Lu one more time.  
  
There’s always tonight, though. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking about it.  
  
At breakfast, Lu avoids his eyes when he throws a general, “Good morning,” in the direction of the students lingering around the buffet. He catches her next to the fruit selection, brushes her arm with his and whispers, “I fell asleep,” and even though he doesn’t owe her any explanation, he can tell it’s what she wanted to hear from the way she nods her head.  
  
“Too bad,” Lu murmurs, then lets the ladle drop into the yogurt bowl with a resounding clang and turns to walk away.  
  
See? This is why he wasn’t gonna try anything on this trip. Lu gets careless when she’s desperate for it, and after keeping this shit under wraps for most of her senior year, he sees no reason to get fucking caught two weeks before graduation.  
  
They start the day with a walking tour of the Jewish district - Cayetana’s idea because she wanted to see the street art — then all break for lunch, and he’s almost relieved when Lu doesn’t join him and the handful of other students around for lunch at this nice bistro. He’s trying to minimize his chances of fucking everything up for them.

After lunch, they walk up to the castle, which is quite a hike in the late May sun, and after a break at the top, most of the kids join Caye and visit the art gallery that’s located inside. Lu corners him in one of the castle gardens and smirks at him. She’s one of the only kids that’s actually dressed for a hike — her signature Nike leggings and a pair of sneakers on her feet.

“Let’s climb that one next.” She points to the neighboring hill, which looks far steeper and challenging to get to. There’s some landmark on top, one of those statues he’s seen in all the travel brochures, and he figures it’s probably worth the steep incline.

It’s already three in the afternoon anyway. They were about to break for some downtime before dinner. He texts Caye about his plan, doesn’t mention Lu is coming along and confirms the address of the restaurant they’re meeting at for dinner tonight.

As soon as they get all the way back down the hill and start walking next to the riverbank, Lu grabs ahold of his hand, and he decides he won’t push her away for now. This is kinda nice.

It’s awkward for a second because he can’t think of anything normal to ask that doesn’t lead to him hitting on her. If he commented on her outfit, that’d lead to him telling her how badly he wants to take it off of her. If he asked what the girls have been up to when he and Caye aren’t around, he’d end up picturing her grinding with random men on the dance floor of clubs, and he’d probably lose it.

“Having a good trip?” he finally asks, which is so lame, he can’t even believe he just said that. He’s got literally no game around her.

Lu squeezes his hand in response but doesn’t reply. Fine. Maybe they don’t have to talk at all.

They finally start making their way up the second hill, and while it’s definitely a little harder in terms of incline, there are lots of trees offering shade, something the castle hill didn't have. They take breaks every now and then to just breathe hard and drink a little bit of water, and the third time they do, he’s surprised to find Lu reaching for him, pushing him off towards one of the little forest clearings away from the footpath.

“What are you doing?” he grits out, except she just leans up to kiss him, letting him walk them back until her shoulders hit the nearest tree, which he pushes her back against. He briefly thinks about how they’re still somewhat in public, but then she bites down on his bottom lip and wraps one of her legs around his waist, so he figures he might as well lift her up so she can wrap the other one around him, too.

He has no idea how long they stay like that. Seconds, minutes, hours — it doesn’t matter, because when they finally break apart, it still wasn’t enough. Why is nothing ever enough for him when it comes to her?

“Let’s keep walking,” he says, and he’s out of breath from anything but the hike.

Lu pouts up at him, then sighs reluctantly, and he’s now absolutely sure she’s gonna be naked and on top of him in a matter of hours. There’s just no way either of them is gonna stop that from happening.

He takes a picture of Lu when they get to the top, her posing with the massive statue — of liberty, he’s pretty sure — and another one of her enjoying the views of the city. When she puts them both on Instagram later with a little content emoji as the only caption, he struggles to hide how special that makes him feel.

//

Dinner is really nice if a little fancy. The food is good, but all he keeps thinking about is the little looks Lu has been shooting him all night.  
  
They have a plan. Neither of them has really mentioned it, but he’s pretty sure they don’t need words to communicate at this point. When Lu starts casually mentioning how she’s too tired to go out towards the end of dinner, he’s sure they’re on the same page. Her friends shrug it off, and then she’s smiling at him slyly for just a second, like things worked out the way she wanted.  
  
He’s an adult, with zero obligation to chaperone anything on this trip — that’s obviously all for show — so he just talks shop with Caye about when they’re off to the airport tomorrow after breakfast, agrees on the time the girls should be down in the lobby and figures he can head up to his room under the guise of having to pack.  
  
And because he’s feeling a little extra, he picks up a bottle of wine at the little corner shop near the hotel. There’s no way it’s gonna be any good, since it literally cost him less than five euros if he did the math right, but it’s more of a gesture anyway.  
  
The knock on his door twenty minutes after he gets back sounds determined, and the stupid little grin on his face is hard to hide as he watches Lu hastily rush in, then come back to lean against the wall. She’s still in her little summer dress from dinner, looks a little flushed around the cheeks, and he wants to fucking devour her.  
  
Lu grins at him, then says, “Why are you all the way over there,” and that’s pretty much the last time he thinks about how bittersweet this whole thing is. He’s gonna enjoy tonight, and he doesn’t see why he should let negative thoughts around her imminent graduation ruin that.  
  
//  
  
He tries not to rush things, but really, rushing is all he wants to do now that he’s got his hands on her again.  
  
Currently, he’s busy dragging her (pretty) dress over her head, and once that’s finally done, he lets her unbutton his pants and pushes them down his legs. He’s still wearing a shirt, which is unnecessary at this point, so he tugs it off, and then he’s left standing in front of her, trying not to stare.  
  
Lu’s in pretty matching lingerie, too pretty to not have been picked out with this exact occasion in mind, and he smirks at her when she blushes under his watchful gaze.  
  
“Stop staring,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, which only makes him want to stare harder. Her tits look amazing all pressed together like that.  
  
“Stop looking like that and I will,” he counters. She fucking loves that; he can tell by the way her eyes narrow.  
  
And really, she’s totally staring too. He watches her watch him, laughs when she actually licks her lips a little as her eyes land on his crotch. She’s shameless. God, he missed her.  
  
No. He can’t think about that now, because then he’ll think about how he actually really wants to have a proper conversation with her, one that isn’t just superficial chitchat to hide how on edge they both are. They’re not here to talk, and he doesn’t think they should, anyway.  
  
He kisses her before either of them can say anything else to ruin this.  
  
It’s better than he remembered, probably because he was trying so hard to forget. All night, Lu is on top of him, then under him, then on her side, and he never ever wants this to end.  
  
He’s got her on all fours, leaning over her as he pushes into her from behind when she comes for the first time.  
  
“Fuck,” he gasps. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”  
  
Lu whines, then turns her head in an attempt to look at him and he decides she’s right. He wants to be on top of her. He wants to see the look in her eyes when he makes her fall apart again.  
  
Once he’s turned them around, he holds her open for him and drapes one of her legs over his shoulder. She barely even flinches and he really fucking loves how easy it is to bend her tight little body into shape.  
  
The rest of the night is a little bit of an animalistic blur. Lu gets loud. Louder than he ever remembers her being, and it’s super fucking hot so it sucks when he has to slow down to tell her to stop screaming his name. That’s a little too obvious, and even if the other students are probably out partying the night away, he doesn’t want to be taking any chances.  
  
They drink cheap wine straight from the bottle during their breaks from making out and trying to lay claim to one another, and really, if he ignores the looming future of this whole thing, it's kind of a great night.  
  
She passes out on top of him sometime around midnight, and he sets an alarm for six so they’ll have a chance to pack before it’s time to go home.

//  
  
In the early morning, she wakes him up by kissing a path from his collarbone to his ear, then bites down on his earlobe and whispers, “Wake up, old man.”  
  
His alarm hasn’t gone off yet, so it can’t even be six — he decides they can probably take advantage of that. He kisses her lazily, then grabs her hips and turns them around, ignoring her whispered protests. He wants to be on top, and there’s no way she’s actually upset he’s gonna be doing all the work here.  
  
He comes inside her moments later, her name on his lips and she folds against him, pulling him down on top of her. His eyes drift shut, except then his phone goes off, signaling the dreaded morning has arrived.  
  
Moving off of her to reach for it and silence the stupid alarm is actual torture.  
  
When he looks back at Lu, she’s got a calculating expression on her face, and he doesn’t want her to be thinking this hard. It’s only six, and they don’t leave for the airport until 11, so really, they don’t have to rush. He just kinda thought it’d be easier for her to sneak back into her room if she did it before people started waking up for the day.  
  
Reaching for her arm, he says, “Come on, let’s take a shower.”  
  
She fights him on it, just a little, but not very hard. Chances are she knows once they get out of the shower, they’re not getting back into bed.  
  
After, when she’s wearing nothing but a towel and a frown on her face, he drops back onto the hotel bed next to her and sighs. There isn’t really anything he can say to make this any better.  
  
“Don’t be weird,” she scolds when he runs a hand up her arm slowly and watches as a shiver runs through her. He’s not being weird, he just wants to touch her without making them both want more again. He doesn’t stop, and she looks over to roll her eyes at him, then moves into his lap so she can kiss him. “Seriously. Stop.”

Okay fine, he’ll let her kiss him for a little. Her towel sort of comes undone, and obviously that’s not something he’s mad about. It does make pushing her away a lot harder. (It makes him a lot harder, too, but he's not gonna think about that.)   
  
“Let’s go down to breakfast.”  
  
“It’s 8 am,” Lu points out, biting her lip. “You don’t seem very hungry.”  
  
He isn’t. He’s actually kind of nauseous, now that he thinks about it.  
  
“Lu,” he says. She knows what he’s asking; he doesn’t want this to get any worse than it already is.  
  
Finally, she moves off his lap, pulls her dress on and bends down to pick up her underwear, then her purse. She walks back over and kisses him once, slow but brief, and leaves without saying another word.  
  
//  
  
When he finally makes it down for breakfast twenty minutes later, the only people sitting in the hotel restaurant are Cayetana, Marina and Lu and he chuckles a little. Everyone else probably got a little too drunk last night; at eighteen he would’ve chosen sleep over breakfast too.  
  
Marina and Lu are sitting one table over from Caye, and he grabs a cup of coffee and joins the blonde.  
  
She’s sort of smiling at the two girls, shaking her head a little, and he laughs when she catches him looking.  
  
“Reliving your youth?”  
  
Caye nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. “Something like that.”  
  
He sets his coffee cup down on the table with a thud, and that makes her look over and take him in. “Long night?”  
  
All he does in response is shrug. If he had a long night, that’s none of her business. Then he notices the way her hair is clearly up in a messy bun because she couldn’t be bothered today, her face makeup-free. “You too, huh?”  
  
She nods, then steals a sip of his coffee, and he wonders if just sitting here watching their students eat breakfast makes them creepy. It definitely feels a little weird.  
  
Caye gets up to grab food, and he follows her if only to have something to do.  
  
//  
  
Lu isn’t in class on Monday, and when she’s still not back Tuesday, he takes Carla aside to gently ask if everything’s okay. It’s what any concerned teacher would do, alright? He’s just being nice.  
  
“She hasn’t been feeling well,” Carla tells him. “I’ll tell her about the homework you assigned.”  
  
He laughs. “You graduate in a week, don’t worry about the homework. Tell her I hope she feels better.”  
  
Carla eyes him suspiciously, almost like she’s questioning his intentions. “Sure.”  
  
Texting Lu seems like it’d cross a line, so he doesn’t.  
  
He gets a little drunker than he normally would on a Tuesday night.  
  
//  
  
On graduation day, Lu is valedictorian (so fucking smart, his girl) and Valerio watches her from his front-row seat as she gives a perfect speech. She says all the right things, and there’s rousing applause when she’s done, which leads to her smiling all big.  
  
He’s in an uncomfortable suit, no tie, and he’s already lost count of the number of students and parents he’s had to greet today. If he has to shake one more hand, he’s gonna fucking lose it. This is the part of teaching he’s worst at.  
  
But back to Lu. She looks radiant, wearing this beautiful shade of red lipstick, her smile bigger than he’s ever seen it. (Except for that one time they were out walking in the snowy mountains on New Years Day.) All he wants to do is corner her, and hug her, and wish her the best but they haven't spoken once since Budapest, and that's probably for the best.  
  
He texts her _congrats_ and when he walks into his office the next day to clean up before summer break, he finds an envelope with his spare key slipped under the door.  
  
A couple of days later he sees she’s shared a picture of herself in her cap and gown on Instagram, and when he reads the caption he kind of has to smile, even though it’s sort of taking a dig at him.  
  
 _Moving on to bigger and better things.  
  
_ He packs up the rest of his shit and turns off the lights.


	13. Chapter 13

He’s 33 and teaching at a fancy private school in downtown Madrid.  
  
After four years at Las Encinas, he kind of had enough of the whole boarding school experience and applied for the job on a whim. Sure, living on campus and never having to cook was nice, but living in an actual _city_ with _things_ to do is worth the loss in income. The principal who interviewed him liked him — probably because Azucena was nice enough to write him a killer recommendation — and he’s been teaching here ever since.  
  
It’s fucking hot as hell, because summers in Madrid are fucking torture, and he’s running out of ideas for how to not go completely insane from the heat. His apartment has AC, but there’s only so much time he can spend on his own, sleeping on his couch, before he feels like he’s wasting his summer. Maybe he needs a plan.  
  
It hasn’t even been two weeks since break started and he’s already going crazy.  
  
He still has some friends in town, and he’s made new ones, too. They’re all kind of busy doing their own thing, though. There’s Ander, married to some guy he met at a fucking tennis lesson and adopted a kid with, and Samuel, newly divorced after his marriage to a chick they all _told_ him was batshit crazy blew up in his face. Rebeka’s still his fucking rock, the friend he tells all of his stupid secrets to, but she’s been busy lately. With work mainly, because she’s running this new government program to keep kids away from drugs or something but with her new girlfriend, too. He met the chick once or twice and she seems cool, so, like, good for Rebe, but he feels a little lost now that he can’t just hang out with her all the time.  
  
All in all, he’s got a pretty nice life now. Madrid’s awesome. Any city would probably be awesome after living in the middle of nowhere for four years. He goes to the gym four times a week, found a couple of new friends through some yoga workshops he attended, and he’s started cooking for fun. His job is cool, and he still enjoys being the kind of teacher kids feel at ease around because he won’t just punish them the second they show weakness and admit school is stressful. It is. He used to be one of those kids, so he makes sure they feel heard and seen.  
  
This summer, though? He can already tell it’s gonna suck. The heat’s already fucking unbearable, and if last summer was any indication, his AC unit is definitely gonna fail again. Samu is his only single friend, and he’s impossible to hang out with right now because he’s in the whiny, crying stage of the break up. Everyone else is paired up. What the fuck is Valerio supposed to do all summer?  
  
Don’t get him wrong. He loves that he gets summers off. Probably one of the key perks of teaching.  
  
But when the sun is in his face at seven in the morning for the third time this week because his stupid blinds are stuck, he realizes he needs something to do, and he isn’t talking about yet another DIY project to fix shit around the house.  
  
A hobby would be nice.  
  
**  
  
Going to the bookstore is kind of a last-minute decision he makes. He heads there on a whim because maybe he can spend his summer reading some of the books people are always recommending to him.  
  
The few blocks he needs to walk to get there are torture in the midday heat, and he’s pretty sure his white cotton shirt is absolutely glued to him by the time he finally walks into the store. Thank god — or whoever invented it — for aircon. The cold breeze hits his skin, and he feels himself come back to life.  
  
The classics aisle is the first one he spots, and after a brief browse, he decides that’s probably not gonna be his reading material of choice. Too high maintenance. He needs something that he won’t immediately lose interest in.  
  
He’s in the sci-fi section looking at the latest bestsellers when he spots a cute brunette looking at kids' books one aisle over. Her hair is shiny and long, and she’s in a green dress that just barely hits the top of her thighs when she reaches up to grab a book from one of the top shelves. Well, she tries to get the book down, anyway. She’s clearly too short to get it.  
  
Really, he’s only being nice. He isn’t even consciously thinking about hitting on this cute girl — he just wants to help her get that book down. He’s next to her before he can overthink it, a charming smile on his lips as he steps closer.  
  
“Need some help with that?”  
  
He hears her scoff before she’s even turned to face him, and that’s what tips him off — not the way she still looks more or less the same way she did five years ago, but the indignant noise she lets out, as if he couldn’t possibly be here to be nice.  
  
Without sparing him as much as a glance, she turns the other way and starts walking away from him. “I can manage just fine on my own.”  
  
“You sure about that, Lu?”  
  
That finally gets her to look over. Her eyes are wide, her hair hits her cheek because she turned around so abruptly, and the look on her face is priceless. More importantly, she’s still fucking gorgeous. There’s something different about her makeup, he thinks, because her eyes are framed differently, and her lips are still that same shade of kissable red. He can’t take his eyes off of her.  
  
The girl’s still fucking smart because the first thing she does is glance down at his hand and check for a ring. Genius move. That Oxford education is obviously paying off. He wiggles his fingers to emphasize how very not married he is, and when her eyes move back up to his face, she’s grinning.  
  
There’s a book in her hand, some kids classic about a very hungry worm or something, and one of them needs to speak if they don’t want to spend the rest of the day standing here.  
  
“Didn’t realize you liked kids,” he says. All he wants to know is whether she has any. God, that would fuck up the plan he just came up with. Maybe he should check _her_ hand for a ring. She must be, what, twenty-three? It’s not completely impossible she might be dating someone.  
  
Lu looks caught off guard by the question, but finally catches on when he motions to the book. “My nephew is turning two.”  
  
That’s cool. He doesn’t really care. He stopped caring the second she confirmed she’s not going home to her husband and kids.  
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
Lu smiles at him. “I just finished grad school. I’m starting a new job in a few weeks, so I figured I’d move back early to acclimate.”  
  
There’s a dirty joke at the tip of his tongue, but this doesn’t really seem like the time. “I can help with that.”  
  
He’s kind of surprised at how nonchalant he’s managed to sound during this entire chance encounter. Really, his heart is ready to beat right out of his chest.  
  
It’s not like he’s forgotten about her. Believe him, he’s fucking tried. He hasn’t seen her in five years, and any progress he’s made in managing to forget about her is instantly thrown by the wayside when she bites her lip as she glances up at him.  
  
“Let me pay for this and then we can go.”  
  
She walks ahead, and he stands right behind her as she pays, his hand grazing the back of her hip. When he splays his fingers there, he feels her pushing back against him.  
  
(He remembers how much she used to love doing that to him when they were both naked and tired and sated, half asleep in his bed. How she used to wiggle back against him until he relented, until she convinced him that maybe, possibly she deserved another orgasm. Fuck.)  
  
He takes the plastic bag the cashier puts on the counter and leads her away. It’s his foolproof way of ensuring she won’t just run away from him once they leave the store.  
  
They run into a wall of heat when they walk through the sliding doors, and Lu reaches up to wipe some sweat off her brow.  
  
“So,” he starts, trying for confident. For some fucking reason he’s nervous now. “Can I buy you a drink?”  
  
Lu bursts out laughing, then reaches for his hand and tugs on it. “If we can drink it at your place.”  
  
That’s… Yeah. Obviously that’s exactly what he was angling for anyway. God, he forgot how fucking bold Lu gets when she can tell she’s getting her way. Such a brat.  
  
He pulls her down a little side alley and pushes her against the nearest wall, even though it’s too hot to be touching anyone. He just needs to. Her breathing is a little erratic, and she’s just sort of staring up at him like she’s waiting for him to make a move.  
  
For a couple of seconds, he keeps her boxed in like that, not blinking. She’s not putting a stop to any of this, so he finally leans in to kiss her, then immediately hoists her up so she can wrap her legs around him, keeping her back flush against the wall. There’s newfound urgency now, because she’s pulling on his shirt, trying to touch every inch of him she can reach, and he laughs into the kiss when her fingers slip under the material.  
  
They have lost time to make up for, and they definitely can’t do any of that _making up_ out here, in the fucking 40-degree summer heat.  
  
When he pushes her away and waits for her to get her feet back under her, she whines into his mouth, and god, he missed how demanding and impatient Lu gets. The sooner they get going, the faster he’ll be able to give her what she wants, so he tugs on her wrist, then untangles the rest of their limbs and walks back out into the busy street.  
  
Who knew going to the bookstore was gonna turn out to be the best fucking idea he’s ever had?!  
  
**

She doesn’t waste any time once they get to his apartment.

They barely talked on the short walk over, just a tiny bit of general small talk about completely irrelevant shit that he already forgot about, and they’re definitely not gonna waste time catching up now.

He was actually gonna offer her a drink, too. He totally was. But as he walks towards the kitchen, assuming she’s following him for a quick tour, he looks back at her and sees her reaching for the hem of her pretty green dress. Then it’s on the floor, and he takes a second to appreciate the pretty matching lingerie she’s wearing — almost like she planned this — before he walks towards her and tugs her close for a kiss.

She tastes like summer. He knows that’s a fucking cheesy thing to say, but she totally does, he doesn’t even know why.

When he breaks the kiss to ask, “You sure you don’t wanna have that drink,” she literally glares at him, then reaches for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

He’s not gonna lie. The way she takes a moment to admire his chest and abs after she drops the shirt on the floor is flattering. He seriously can’t wait to fuck her.

And fine. If she’s impatient, he’ll stop pretending he isn’t. He picks her up bridal style, giggling at the screech she lets out when her feet lift off the floor, then carries her to his bedroom and literally drops her on the bed. 

He strips off the remainder of his clothes, tells her to do the same, and really, Lu taking orders from him is a definite sign she’s clearly just as desperate as he is. There’s no way she lost any of her bossiness over last five years. He’ll chalk it up to how completely unexpected this whole turn of events today has been.

They’re both naked, and he’s never been shy about shit like that, so he takes his time standing at the foot of the bed as he takes her in. Nothing’s really changed. There’s a tiny tattoo right above her hipbone, so small he can’t even really tell what it is from over here, and he’ll definitely ask her about that later.

“Quit stalling,” she finally demands, propping herself up on her elbows. Her tits look so fucking good all pushed out like that. “Get over here _now_.”

See? Still bossy.

“Or what?”

She looks ready to murder him if he makes her wait any longer, and he honestly really doesn’t want to wait anyway. Before she can come up with a vaguely threatening comeback, he gets on the bed with her, then settles on top of her and crowds her against the mattress.

This time she kisses him first, her lips firm and insistent on his, and he really could do this all day. He isn’t even just saying that; he totally could. Aggressive, precise kissing never gets old.  
  
Lu pulls back to breathe and say something, except she keeps getting distracted by his hands on her. “This is— fuck, Val— this is crazy,” she whines, wrapping one of her legs around his middle to get closer.  
  
“Have you thought about this?”  
  
“God, so much,” she cries out when he pushes two fingers into her without warning. “Please.”

Of course he’s fucked other women in the past five years, but every time he did, he was left feeling underwhelmed at the lack of fun he had and overwhelmed with the devastating realization of just how much he missed Lu. Mainly the sex, because she’s out of this world good in bed, but their easy late-night talks, all the silly flirting, her little dramatic meltdowns that always ended with more orgasms for both of them.

Seeing her again, getting to touch her again, getting a real-life reminder of how responsive she is to touches and praise and absolutely everything feels like shooting the most premium heroin in the world.

To get him to stop daydreaming, Lu grabs his neck roughly, mutters something about him staying focused, and he laughs a little. Leave it to her to basically scold him for fantasizing about her.

“I fucking missed you,” he rasps against her neck when she finally comes on his fingers, and he didn’t even mean to say that at all. Watching her entire body tense up as she gripped his fingers tight and screamed his name made him do it.

It’s irresponsible because he hasn’t seen her in five years and absolutely doesn’t know anything about her recent sexual history or whether she’s on birth control, but he takes advantage of the few seconds she spends with that blissed-out look on her face as she breathes in deep and just pushes her knees apart further and strokes himself a couple of times before he pushes into her so slowly, it actually hurts.

He wants to savor the moment, wants to memorize every inch of her body because it’s been too long since he did that, and lord knows when he’ll get the chance to do it again.

Lu throws her head back, fisting her hands in the sheets like a woman possessed. When he bottoms out, he leans forward to lick a sloppy line from her neck to her collarbone, then kisses her neck before he starts moving.  
  
Any effort at taking his time and not letting animal instincts take over is thwarted the second Lu starts talking. He barely notices at first, too busy feeling her around him all hot and tight in the best of ways, but then he catches on and figures he should probably try to listen.  
  
All he can make out is, “I need you,” before she’s telling him to go harder, give her more, and he isn’t in the right state of mind to deny her, not now or ever. Not even for fun.  
  
They come together, and he swears it’s fucking fate that’s brought them back here. It’s a religious experience. There’s no fucking way he’s giving her up again this time around. Lu’s still breathing hard, clutching his neck tight and there’s a giant grin on her lips when she finally opens her eyes to look at him.  
  
He’s still inside of her when he says, “So how about that drink,” and he chuckles when she hits him in the chest in response, squirming when he finally moves off of her.  
  
“Don’t you dare leave this bed.”  
  
He gets up just to spite her, and because he’s actually thirsty now. The exasperated look on her face is adorable.  
  
When he comes back with an open bottle of wine — no glasses — and a bottle of cold water, she reaches for the water the second he sits down next to her, so he’s apparently been forgiven for the grave mistake of leaving her alone for two seconds.  
  
They pass the bottle of wine back and forth in silence for a while, both sitting up in bed and sort of leaning on each other, and then he turns to her and smiles.  
  
“Did you actually miss me?” It comes out quiet, almost shy, because he needs her to admit he isn’t the only one who’s spent five years thinking about her. Lu nods, and he laughs while he presses a kiss to her hair. “Me, or the way I fuck you better than anyone else?”  
  
Lu pretends to think about that for a moment, just bites her lip and grins at him, and he knows he’ll like her answer before she even says anything.  
  
“All of the above,” she finally declares, then moves over so she can straddle him. She takes the bottle of wine from his hands and puts it down on the nightstand. When she leans in to kiss him, she whispers, “But mostly this.”  
  
That’s a pretty good answer.  
  
**  
  
They nap until it’s dinner time, which Lu insists they order in because she, quote, “refuses to be anywhere she can’t be naked and touching him.”  
  
That’s gonna become an issue if they keep doing this, but he’ll admit he kind of agrees with her today. They’ve got too much catching up to do.  
  
“Tell me about Oxford,” he says when they’re on the couch with their pizza. Lu apparently eats carbs now; it’s nice to think she’s a little nicer to herself these days.  
  
She gives him a quick rundown of her academic achievements, talks about the sort of people she met, her year abroad in Hong Kong for her Masters, and he can’t help but notice she hasn’t told him a single truly personal thing about herself.  
  
“Any boyfriends? Girlfriends?” She shrugs, a small smirk on her lips, so that’s a yes. “Anyone I should know about?”  
  
It’s weird to think she might not even be single right now. He’d like to think she wouldn’t do that to any potential significant other, but he barely knows her — maybe she would.  
  
“No one important,” she says, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Do you remember Guzmán?”  
  
Of course he does. Nice kid with great taste in women. He instantly feels a weird sliver of possessive rage, so he puts a hand on her thigh as he nods.  
  
“He was at Cambridge. We sort of dated sporadically for a few years.”  
  
A few _years_? _Sporadically_? The flicker of jealousy he was feeling before turns into a full-blown flame. What the fuck was she doing with that child for years?  
  
She instantly laughs when she sees the expression on his face. “Really? You can’t tell me you’ve been on your own all this time.”  
  
Obviously not, but that’s different, that’s— okay, maybe he’s a fucking hypocrite.  
  
“Mostly,” he mumbles, and she grins at him.  
  
He actually dated a woman who was a lot like Lu. When he took her to a party Rebeka was hosting, Rebeka pointed it out to him after and he tried to laugh right along with her, but it wasn’t really funny to him. He broke up with her the next day.  
  
“So you’re single.”  
  
She rolls her eyes. “You could’ve just asked me that in the first place.”  
  
God, can she just… “Look can you just give me a straight answer please?"  
  
“I could, but watching you worry is so much more fun.”  
  
He’s had it with the teasing. He leans over and tickles her side, then grabs her and pulls her into his lap for better access. She’s laughing so hard, he thinks there are tears in her eyes, and when he finds a particularly ticklish spot on the back of her thigh she screeches, then finally says, “Fine! I’m single.”  
  
That wasn’t so hard, was it?  
  
“You’re such a brat.”  
  
“You love it.”  
  
Yeah, he does. He can’t even argue her on that.  
  
He pours them both a large glass of wine after dinner — the only thing he’s got in the house that might qualify as dessert — and Lu pulls her legs up under herself and smiles at him when he covers their legs with a blanket for a more comfortable Netflix experience.  
  
He doesn’t ask if she’s staying over and she doesn’t seem in a hurry to leave.  
  
That’s good enough for him.  
  
**

She leaves after lunch the next day, says something casual about having put her new number in his phone, and he frowns.  
  
“How did you even unlock it?”  
  
“You sleep like a dead person,” she replies, leaning up to peck him on the lips. When he’s still confused after, she says, “Face ID.”  
  
Then she leaves, and he’s left thinking that she’s probably the smartest, most calculating person he knows. He has _her_ number now, which means he has to get in touch with _her_ — she’s making him do all the chasing after.  
  
After how she had to work extra hard to get him to cave five years ago, that’s probably fair.  
  
He texts her that night, tells her he’s got six weeks off if she needs someone to hang out with, and all she says is, “I’ll come up with an itinerary,” which he doesn’t doubt for even a second.  
  
Really, he just wants to hang out with her all the time now. He wants to do all the shit they didn’t get to the first time around — take her to restaurants, kiss her in public, hold her hand as they stand in line for popcorn at the movies. God, he’s pretty sure he sounds like he’s a fourteen-year-old girl when he puts it like that.  
  
Rebeka’s birthday happens to be that Friday, and when he mentions it to Lu at dinner on Wednesday night, she practically begs him to go.  
  
“Come on, I know her, it isn’t gonna be weird.”  
  
“You just wanna hit on her and ditch me,” he jokes, because yeah, he still remembers that night at Rebeka’s when the two of them basically stopped caring about his presence. Hot but also rude. “Do you really think we’re ready for that?”  
  
Lu rolls her eyes. “Ready for what? A fucking party? Stop making a big deal out of nothing.”  
  
She’s got a point. Maybe he should just live in the moment and stop feeling paranoid that this isn’t gonna work out. The last time sort of scarred him. Shit, he never used to overthink anything like this.  
  
He completely forgets to tell Rebeka he’s bringing someone. He forgets about it… on purpose. It’ll be easier to just let her know on the day, when he won’t have to listen to her long list of questions and I-told-you-sos and her terrible hot for teacher jokes.  
  
They get to her place late, and the party seems to already be in full swing, judging by the dozen or so of people he sees scattered around her living room and balcony.  
  
Rebe hugs him, visibly tipsy, then notices he’s holding someone’s hand and lets out the loudest laugh.  
  
“You remember Lu, right?”  
  
“Holy shit,” Rebe says, hugging her tight. “You don’t look a day over eighteen.”  
  
“Hilarious. You definitely look,” Lu turns to him to double-check. “Thirty-four?”  
  
It isn’t even weird at all. He introduces her to Ander and Samu, too, just skips the story of how they met, and he knows Lu’s the right girl for him when she leans in and whispers, “Why are you friends with such losers,” in his ear after Samu spends twenty minutes complaining about his ex.  
  
He can’t help himself. He kisses her, then says, “That’s why you’re my favorite,” and flips Ander off when he makes a gagging motion with his hands.  
  
They don’t really talk about how things went when they leave a few hours later and head back to his place. They don’t really talk at all, actually, once they get back.  
  
“That wasn’t so bad, right?”  
  
Lu’s drawing circles on his naked chest, she’s got one of her legs slung over his waist, and he just had to ask before they both fall asleep and never talk about it.  
  
“We should hang out with my friends next. Carla would definitely love to see you.”  
  
He groans. “Can’t you just make new friends?”  
  
“You’re right, we should just double date with Marina and Cayetana.” She sits up and throws a leg over his hip, and for a second he thinks it’s to kiss him, but she just reaches for her phone on the nightstand and taps the screen a couple times. She hands it to him and says, “See? That’s them with their cats.”  
  
Maybe he should’ve kept in touch with Cayetana, but she ended up leaving Las Encinas for a new job in the city right after Lu’s graduation — they had no reason to stay friends. It was always more of a work friendship.  
  
And really, maybe he should be surprised by that revelation, but he can absolutely see Marina and Cayetana together. Caye is a couple years younger than him, so the age difference is barely an issue, and they did always get along weirdly well.  
  
Still something to ponder, though. A part of him is jealous that it apparently didn’t take Cayetana five years and a completely accidental run-in to be with the person she loves.  
  
He puts the phone down next to them and laughs. “How about we just don’t hang out with other people ever again?”  
  
“Works for me,” she says, and her hand is pushing his hair back. Yeah, he needs a haircut.  
  
That’s the last coherent thought he has for a while because then Lu is kissing him again.  
  
**  
  
Summer passes in a blur. They spend an entire month hanging out, doing whatever they want, because she isn’t starting her new fancy job at the Mexican embassy until early August, and he’s got summers off to do fuck all with, and it’s bliss.  
  
The topic of her current living arrangements barely comes up. Lu is technically staying with her parents, except he knows from literally every single conversation they’ve ever had about her family that she loathes them, so she basically just lives with him now.  
  
She stops going ‘home’ about two weeks into their summer romance, just comes over with a suitcase and puts her shit everywhere in his closet, and he doesn’t mention it because he really doesn’t mind her sticking around. Is this why all of his friends have always been so desperate to find people to date? It’s super cool, actually, to just have her here all the time.  
  
The night before her first day of work, she’s stress cooking, which he’s learned is a thing she picked up during her time at Oxford. The first time he caught her in the kitchen he joked about calling the fire department to prevent any major damages, but she’s actually a decent cook.  
  
She makes spinach and ricotta ravioli from scratch like the overachiever she is, and he’d never admit this to her because her ego doesn’t need the boost, but it tastes fucking amazing.  
  
“What if I’m bad at this,” she asks him later that night, with her feet up in his lap and her brow furrowed. “I’ve never been bad at anything before. What if this is it?”  
  
“Lu, they wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you can do the job.”  
  
She rolls her eyes, then kicks him in the stomach. “We both know why they hired me.”  
  
Okay, true. Nepotism. “Then I guess they just got very lucky the ambassador’s daughter happens to be the smartest, most ruthless person they’ll ever meet.”  
  
“Hey! I am not _ruthless_. I’m deliberate about my actions.”  
  
“Right, like when you literally forced your way into my apartment and made me hide you in the closet while I had sex with someone else, just to get back at me.”  
  
Lu bites her lip, then purses her lips and smiles at the memory. Fucking weirdo.  
  
“Okay, maybe I’ll be fine tomorrow.”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
Maybe they’ll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know... I can't believe it's been thirteen chapters already! Thank you everyone for coming along for the ride, I hope it's been a good one! 
> 
> (I do plan on eventually writing a few other things set in this universe, hence why this is now part of a series in case you'd like to subscribe!)

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://cupcakeb.tumblr.com/)


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